


In 280 Characters or Less

by arcadenemesis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Amnesia, Attempt at Humor, Fake Marriage, Fake Marriage... Again, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Hospitalization, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Twitter, Love Confessions, M/M, Popsicles, Protective Shiro (Voltron), RPtron, Sharing a Bed, Social Media, They're Both Disaster Gays tbh, VLDRP, Vacation, vprp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-11 11:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadenemesis/pseuds/arcadenemesis
Summary: peithjust let me dieIt erases his lingering embarrassment immediately. He's still not quite too sure what it is about Twitter that makes Keith so dramatic, but his followers are hardly ones to complain. The remark already has dozens of likes and replies, and Shiro decides to add his own, amused.You're not dying. It's just a misunderstanding.… Why is everyone telling you F?Inspired by the RPTron/VPRP crew on Twitter





	1. Chapter 1: Stealing Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I'm usually far too slow to keep up with the current fandom trends but RPTron on Twitter snatched my wig so here you go.
> 
> Dedicated to [@002_kth](https://twitter.com/002_kth) and [@tshiro01](https://twitter.com/tshiro01)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30 October: In which Shiro catches Keith looking at... art. And the twitterverse gets a front row seat.

“Just… leave me here. Don't come any closer.”

Shiro can't help the startled bark of nervous laughter that leaves him as he stares at Keith's prone form on the floor of the room — their room (and that's _still_ weird to say). His eyes drift to the discarded datapad beside him and Shiro's cheeks flame again. It's honestly a miracle Keith didn't break this one too, or put a hole in the roof when he had thrown it in the air in horrified alarm. It would have been Shiro's fault, he's willing to admit, but he truly hadn't meant to startle him. It's just… how else was he supposed to react to an image like that on Keith's screen? The likeness had been uncanny, Shiro would give the artist that, even if it had been a bit unsettling to see his own face staring lovingly back at him. But he isn't so sure that Steve Rogers would approve of _that_ kind of take on his signature Captain America outfit. If nothing else it seemed a little... impractical for any kind of real combat. He certainly wouldn't go anywhere particularly cold in a uniform like that, lest hypothermia were the mission. Undoubtedly, being the Garrison’s golden boy comes with a lot of perks - bigger rooms, special considerations, interesting missions... Gratuitous fanart isn't exactly one Shiro would count among those.

“It's… it's really not that bad,” he tries to assure, but Keith’s answering groan into the carpet lets him know he's missed the mark.

He hovers for a moment before he decides to leave Keith to wallow in his misery, shedding his jacket and stepping over him to search for leftovers in the kitchenette. By the time he sits down in front of twice reheated curry, his datapad pings in his pocket, and he snorts into the bowl when he checks the notification.

_**peith**_  
_just let me die_

It erases his lingering embarrassment immediately. He's still not quite too sure what it is about Twitter that makes Keith so dramatic, but his followers are hardly ones to complain. The remark already has dozens of likes and replies, and Shiro decides to add his own, amused.

_You're not dying. It's just a misunderstanding._  
_… Why is everyone telling you F?_

His datapad pings again while he's putting away his dishes, and he pauses in the space between the kitchen and bathroom to stare at where Keith hasn't moved, suppressing a laugh.

_**peith**_  
_stab me_

Shiro knows it's a little silly, standing only a few feet away and talking like this, but he types a response anyway.

_..... You really just want to lay face down on the floor like that?_

Shiro doesn't bother to hold back his laughter when Keith's head pops up at the sound of his datapad buzzing on the ground beside him.

_**peith** replying to @tshiro01 _  
_yes_

The replies from Keith's other followers go unnoticed.

_I'll lay on you if you keep that up._

“I'm having a shower,” he announces out loud. Keith grunts a response, but seems willing to keep up the act, still on the ground when Shiro closes the door. He's down to his underwear in the bathroom when his datapad pings again, and compulsively, he checks it as his prosthetic floats to the shower taps.

_**peith** replying to @tshiro01 _  
_suffocate me_

Shiro is sure he'll be able to hear him laughing from the other side of the door.

_You're terrible.  
    I'm not going to do that. _

The device pings again but he ignores it. At this rate he'll never get in the damn shower. He knows the app is teetering on the edge of addition, and he'll have to take care to make sure it doesn't impact his work. It's already impacted his personal life, in the most earth shattering of ways, thanks to just a few innocent tweets. Even here, in the bathroom, he can see the little ways Keith has now wormed his way into his private space. His soap in the dish, his hairbands on the floor, his toothbrush next to his by the basin. A welcome invasion. Shiro is only all to willing to let Keith conquer to his heart's content. And really that's how they found themselves in this little arrangement in the first place. He rushes the shower maybe a little more than he should to see what Keith has written back, pulling on his boxers and a shirt while he juggles his datapad.

_**peith** replying to @tshiro01 _  
_wow_  
_you said you would_

Shiro almost trips and drops the device, choking on nothing. Without the benefit of verbal tone, Shiro knows he's reading too much into it. But sometimes Keith seems so bold, and he can't help but wonder if there's a little more to his teasing words. He fights down the heat in his cheeks, and tries to channel a little of that boldness for himself. Keith is still on the floor in his display of shame when he opens the door, and Shiro uses it to his advantage when he doesn't do much as shift to acknowledge his return. With purpose, he strides over to him, datapad still in hand. Keith only belatedly realises his intent when he plants his feet either side of his hips, and Shiro catches a flash of surprise thrown over his shoulder before he crashes down on top of him. The squeak Keith makes is hardly dignified, but neither is Shiro’s landing, copping an elbow to the belly for his troubles. He commits to the bit though, settling his weight as Keith wriggles in protest beneath him, and propping his chin on the top of his head so he can keep working through his reports on his datapad.

“You asked for this,” he reminds him gleefully, and Keith groans, resting his head on his forearm.

“Yeah kinda,” he concedes with a sigh, opening up the little blue application on his screen again. Shiro can see him flicking through his feed absently from his position, and he makes the conscious decision to try not to use that to his advantage to spy. Instead, he tries to address one of the many elephants in the room.

“So… about your… art…”

“Nope,” Keith cuts in loudly, and that's the end of that. Shiro hides a grin in his hair as he flicks through Atlas' latest flight stats. They lay in silence, and he's just starting to find a rhythm with his reports when a notification appears at the top of his screen.

_**peith**_  
_this is good_

Shiro hopes Keith doesn't feel his heart sputter against his spine. He lets the notification hide itself, trying to stay focused. And he succeeds for the most part. But occasionally he feels Keith take in a deeper breath that makes him feel lightheaded, or he shifts his hips under him and Shiro has to clamp down on the threat of heat in his belly. The latter starts happening at more frequent intervals until Shiro thinks he might have to spring away, but then another notification flashes up on the top of his screen.

_**peith**_  
_switch I can't breathe_

Shiro bursts into laughter, waiting until he has hit out an adequate response from his emoji keyboard before rolling off of him. He's not even surprised when Keith rolls with him to sprawl across his chest, and his prosthetic rests at his back to secure him without missing a beat. Shiro isn't sure how it happened, but somehow this has become their new normal. Keith settles into the crook of his neck with a huff and Shiro draws absent patterns over the bumps of his spine while he reads.

No more notifications come after that. It takes Shiro at least three reports and far too much procrastination on his own Twitter feed before he realises Keith has barely moved at all.

“Keith?”

Shiro turns his head when he doesn't respond and is met with a vision of peace. It's cliché, but Keith is an angel when he sleeps he has learned these past few days, and right now the sight before him is simply Holy. The way his lashes fan delicately across his cheek, the inky fringe tussled haphazardly across his face, and the quiet breath that whispers between parted, chapped lips.

He could kiss those lips soft, he thinks for a fleeting moment. But he scolds himself the next. It would be terrible to take advantage. Unnoble. Not at all like the image Keith has of him. He opens up a new tweet to try to distract himself; maybe another #paladinpositivity gem of wisdom to calm him down.

_What is happening?_

It feels a bit like Twitter is mocking him. What _is_ happening? In the span of just a few days, he's gone from focused Captain to absolute disaster. Where he once lived in closed quarters, he now shares with his best friend, the man he cares for most in the world, the one he loves all alone, and his life feels like it's been thrown into a spin. Feelings that were once allowed to be kept dormant have sprung to the surface with vengence, and Shiro doesn't know how long he can suppress them and keep them hidden until they erupt and devastate everything in their path. His philosophical words flee him, and instead he sees his bare thoughts compose themselves in front of him.

      _Must've tired himself out._

_There are two beds, but he's asleep on me... on the floor._

He smiles at some of the responses. It is all a bit ridiculous really, and he can appreciate the humour in that. But then his thoughts drift a little more.

       _Ah._

Ah. Yes... He remembers now the fleeting brush of lips against his the night before. But that's not the same. Keith had asked. Maybe Shiro hadn't understood the question, teetering on the precipice of dreams, but permission was requested and granted nonetheless. It had almost been enough to shock him back from the grip of sleep. Weariness won out then though, and so instead it followed him into his slumber with images of azure eyes and warm skin and smiles that Shiro likes to fool himself are only his.

When Pidge's handle shows up in his notifications, his replies become a little more absent. A kiss like that doesn't mean the same to Keith, Shiro knows. His Keith has always been curious, and it seems Shiro can simply chalk his behaviour up to nothing more than that. In the dawn of the morning after, they had woke together, went their separate ways for the day and Keith had never breathed a single word of what he had stolen from Shiro at all. He had started to think that maybe he had imagined it all. But lying here, now, makes it feel all too familiar. Keith had kissed him, and now Shiro wants to balance the ledger, unaligned intentions and meanings be damned.

Keith's trust is a precious thing though, a rare gift offered to few. Shiro knows he's not overestimating himself when he thinks maybe he has the grand prize. Keith would never let his guard down like this with anybody else, maybe save Krolia. And trust doesn't automatically equate to… to the feelings _he_ has. To violate that trust would truly be his greatest sin.

He is so close though, so very close. He can feel his heartbeat drum slow and assertive against his ribs while they lie chest to chest, feel the warmth of his body seep into cotton of his shirt. The tips of his fingers twitch restlessly for a moment before they grip the material beneath them, and it's almost as if Keith squeezes firm at his very heart. 

_Just one_ , Shiro tells himself, staring at the split in the middle of his lip. _Just one, and I'll apologise in the morning._

It's not an easy thing, and maybe that should be enough to dissuade him. Lying supine hardly gives him the purchase he needs to lean forward into the angle he needs. But Shiro is far from a stranger to calculated risk. He runs featherlight fingers under the sharp line of his jaw, pausing under his chin. He holds his breath so he won't tremble, and then carefully - ever so carefully - he tips his face up to him.

He stills, staring at him a moment, both to ensure he doesn't wake and to take in his heavenly face. His guardian angel who had clawed his way through hell to save him again and again and again. When Keith doesn't even shiver at his touch, Shiro steels his nerves and stretches up just that tiny bit to bridge the gap between them. With the tenderness he deserves, he captures his bottom lip softly between his. It's only a heartbeat, but it feels like a lifetime more, and Shiro suddenly realises his mistake.

Just one… He will never be satisfied with just one.

He pulls back with a start, but Keith doesn't stir. Shiro isn't sure whether the sigh that leaves him is one of relief or disappointment.

“I love you,” he murmurs softly into the silence, because his heart might just burst with words unsaid.

Long after he pushes away the datapad and closes his eyes, Shiro dreams of the words whispered back to him, and of windburnt kisses returned in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hit me up to yell about the roleplayers on [tumblr](https://copilotsheith.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith)


	2. Chapter 2: Keith Shirogane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 1-2: An incident at the Garrison lands Keith in hospital and Shiro in unexpected marital bliss.

Keith's voice is underwater as it flows to him, but Shiro can’t look up. It's like the universe has narrowed itself down to two little sentences on his datapad.

 **_Lex_ ** _replying to @002_kth  
_ _… you could always marry @tshiro01. Then they couldn't bar him from your hospital room, as he'd have a legal right to be allowed there._

“Shiro?”

But that would be crazy, wouldn't it? Marrying his best friend just to stay by his side? Even if he shared a room with that best friend, had travelled the universe with him, had heard him once say he loved him. Even if that best friend had just today added another strike to a tally of millions for the times he had saved his life.

“Captain Shirogane, please, you have to leave. Visiting hours are over.”

The nurse's firm voice draws him back to reality.

“I'm his husband,” he blurts, too quick and too loud. The nurse looks shocked, and Keith's eyes bug behind her.  
“Aren't next of kin allowed to stay?”

The nurse shifts on her feet with a frown and Shiro knows she isn't buying it.  
“Well yes, but—”

The chair drags with a horrible squeal as Shiro stands to hurry to Keith's side.  
“Good,” he says, trying to channel a calm he doesn't feel as he brushes Keith's hair back from his forehead in a gesture he hopes looks more tender than trembling. Focusing resolutely on _not_ looking at him, he steels himself to press a kiss to the skin revealed.  
“Then I'm staying.”

He doesn't see Keith's reaction, but the nurse stares like he's grown another head, then blinks at her datapad.  
“W-well I guess our admission documentation must be incorrect. How long have—”

“A year,” Keith interrupts without missing a beat. Shiro's hand slips where it holds onto the bed railing and heat floods his cheeks.  
“We've kept it quiet, so we would appreciate your discretion.”

The good news for Shiro is that the nurse seems so stunned that she hasn't noticed he's gone into cardiac arrest by Keith's bedside. At least he will be able to die in peace.

“Of course, Mr—”

“Shirogane,” Keith supplies helpfully.

Shiro flatlines.

“Shirogane, yes,” the nurse responds, flustered. “Let me just get one of our admins to update your records. Someone will be with you shortly.”

Keith nods, casually picking up his datapad as she leaves. Shiro's pings back on the chair where he abandoned it, but Keith's face betrays nothing. Curious, he moves to pick it up.

     **_k  
_ ** _it worked_

Shiro finds himself parroting a response to his own followers.

_It, uh… worked?_

His notifications light up immediately, and all he can do is blink as Keith continues to tweet beside him.

 **_k  
_ ** _has it really been a year already_

 ******k**  
_that's shiro  
_ _my husband_

 **_k  
_ ** _keith shirogane_

“K-Keith!”

But all he gets is a shameless grin. Keith doesn't even look up from where he taps away at his screen.  
“Yes, husband?”

 **_keith shirogane  
_ ** _updated bio_

Shiro chokes.

 **_keith shirogane  
_ ** _kashi_

Shiro is almost terrified to reply. But it beats having to use the brainpower to form any kind of intelligible verbal response. Shaky fingers tap out a short message that takes him entirely too long to send.

_… Yes?_

**_keith shirogane_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _give me your datapad for a sec_

When he looks up, Keith is holding his hand out expectantly. He can't help but feel a little wary.

“And just what do you want to do with it?”

Keith pouts, and it has no business melting his heart the way it does when his face is covered in cuts and bruises.  
“Don't you trust your husband?”

And Shiro can't help but hand it over on autopilot, mind unhelpfully looping the shape Keith’s lips make around the word _husband_. He thinks about what that would mean. Was Keith even the marrying kind? What kind of person would he want to marry? Would he want a big ceremony, with guests from all over the galaxy to witness his happiness?

No, he knows the answer to the last question at the very least. Keith would want as little fuss as possible. Privacy. He would only want to declare his love in front of a very select few people who he truly cared about. And maybe after, a quiet honeymoon in a faraway place where it would just be them and—

Wait, honeymoon? _Them_? Shiro feels panic flood his system. They've only been holding up this charade for a hot minute, and already he’s getting far too caught up in the fantasy. He needs to take it down a notch, before Keith gets suspicious.

“There,” Keith says triumphantly, tossing the datapad back. “You're all sorted.”

 _“Sorted”_ apparently means the new display staring at him from under his profile picture.

 _@002_kth’_ _s husband_

Shiro thinks he might be broken.

“Do you like it?” Keith asks innocently, but the shake of his shoulders betrays his amusement. He's enjoying this far too much.

“I think we're going to have to ask Pidge to forge our marriage licence,” he murmurs absently, and it's enough to send Keith into a fit of giggles. The sound makes him relax for a moment before a grimace spreads across Keith's face and he grips at his ribs. In a fit of concern, Shiro rushes in close to his side.

“Ow, ow!” Keith wheezes, wrinkling his nose. “Okay, no laughing, I get it.”

This time, when Shiro brushes at his fringe, it's not for the benefit of any nurse.  
“Are you alright? Should I call a doctor?”  
His heart squeezes when Keith smiles up to him.

“I'm fine,” he assures softly. And then, “you're pretty good at this, you know.”

Shiro frowns.  
“Good at what?”

“Playing the doting husband.”

Shiro springs back with a blush and a muttered apology. Because that's right - he _is_ just supposed to be playing. And nobody is even here to see. Keith gives a little frown, but Shiro retreats to the window so he can attempt to get a grip on himself. Behind him, there's a pause and then a shift of sheets, and he can hear him tapping away on the bed again. He tries to ignore the notifications that steadily come through his own datapad.

“Mr Shirogane?”

Shiro turns on instinct, but the infirmary employee at the door is looking directly at Keith. He tries not to give up the ghost with the furious blush that wants to consume him.

“I have the forms you need to resubmit for our records. Can you just answer some quick questions for me?”

Keith nods, and Shiro jumps in hastily.  
“Just make it quick. He needs to rest.”

The administration officer glances up to him, looking a little intimidated, and Shiro suddenly regrets his tone. He didn't mean to scare him. It's just… the longer this takes, the more he fears it will unravel in front of him.

“Of course. I just need to confirm your full name and date of birth.”

Keith doesn't hesitate for a second. It would be impressive if it wasn't so terrifying.  
“Keith Shirogane. Twenty-third of October, 2099. But age is 22. Time distortion and space whales. You get it.”

Judging by the officer's face, he really doesn't.

“And the date of your marriage?”

“Thirty-first of October last year.”

Oh, okay. Nice to have a date to put to it, Shiro supposes.

“Halloween?” the officer quips with a smile as he notes it down.

“Just after the Puig mission, isn't that right?” Keith responds, looking up to Shiro with a sugar-sweet smile.

Shiro wonders what they'll write in the cause field of his death certificate.  
“Y-yes. Right.”

“Well happy anniversary then,” the officer says, and Shiro feels bad about how sincere he sounds.  
“We'll have your sleeping arrangements sorted soon, Captain. They should be here any second.”

“Appreciated,” he replies a little gruffly.

The staff wheel in a small bed only a few moments later, and he almost groans in response when his datapad pings once they leave.

 **_keith shirogane  
_ ** _I think he needs to lay down more than I do._

Because some higher being clearly has it out for him, another familiar handle joins the fray.

 **_Pidge_ ** _replying to @002_kth  
_ _If you try hard enough maybe you can both fit on the bed haha_

Shiro almost drops his device in the scramble to open the keyboard.

_No. All good. Hospital staff brought an extra cot for me._

He glances over the replies and resolutely closes the app. Why are Keith's followers so invested in this mess anyway? He's putting a stop to this. No more twitter, that's final. The trill of his datapad lets him know he's been tagged in the latest update, but he refuses to check it.

“Shiro,” Keith hisses quietly. “Don't ignore me.”

It startles Shiro, so he turns to face him, seeing him glance pointedly at the door. When he follows his line of sight, he locks eyes briefly with a nurse who hastily hurries away.

“Come here,” Keith whispers, and Shiro's feet move on instinct.  
“I think we have spies.”

“Well, good news travels fast I guess,” Shiro says dryly.  
“I'm sure the staff just want to check out any rumours that might have spread already.”

Keith’s brow wrinkles with a frown that somehow still looks pretty on his face.  
“Sit up here with me,” he says quietly.

“Not while you're injured!”

Keith hushes him.  
“Just do it. Pretend you're working on your datapad. We can talk through them.”

Shiro sighs, but the look on Keith's face is so stubborn that he obeys.

_When do I ever not give in?_

**_keith shirogane_ ** replying to @tshiro01  
          it's just for the next 2 nights  
_could be 3  
_           _or 4_

Shiro gives him a confused look.

_Can’t imagine why you’d want to stay at the hospital for so long. You were just saying you wanted to leave a few hours ago._

“You should kiss me,” Keith mutters beside him, and Shiro feels his spine go as stiff as a rod.  
“It will be a more convincing cover.”

“Oh…”

Setting his datapad down in his lap, he takes a deep breath. Kiss him. It's fine, he can do that. Just a little kiss because that's what husbands do, and he is Keith's husband, and it would be weird if he didn't kiss his husband, because that's what husbands do, and…

Okay, he's stuck in a loop. He can see that. If he just bites the bullet, it will be easier. And so with a gentle hand on his bruised jaw, Shiro swoops down before he can change his mind.

 _Just one_ , his subconscious reminds him in a mocking tone. _Hah._

There's a moment where Keith is still, as if he hadn't asked for this, but then the lips against his press in, and they feel a little softer than they did the other night. Shiro beats down an embarrassing whine that wants to escape when he pulls back.

“Shiro… no one is watching right now.”

He glances over to the door and feels the blood drain from his face at the confirmation.  
“Oh,” he repeats unintelligently.

Keith's tongue flicks over his lips before the stunned expression gives way to a smirk. He picks up his datapad again and Shiro almost dreads the notification that arrives on his screen a moment later.

 ******keith shirogane**  
_god how are you smart and dumb_  
_so_  
          _dumb_

That's categorically unfair, so Shiro only responds with the first sarcastic emoji he can find on his recents tab. The reply of a little face blowing a kiss is the only warning he gets before Keith's weight shifts beside him and he finds lips back on his. Shiro hears the surprised sound between them, realising belatedly that it has come from him, and his heart thunders when Keith presses against him a little more insistently. It pushes the boundaries of sweet and innocent when it lasts far longer than the first, and Shiro gasps when Keith finally pulls away.

“Wha…?”

Keith shrugs.  
“I thought I saw some guy watching,” he says simply.

Shiro blinks, glancing at the doorway. There's a few voices just beyond, but he doesn't see any prying eyes.  
“... Were they?”

Keith shrugs noncommittally again, but Shiro can see he's suppressing a grin as he busies himself with Twitter again. At least one of them is getting amusement out of this, he supposes. For Shiro, it's straight up torture. He's not sure how long he stares at his own screen before he sends his own thoughts out into the Twitterverse.

_Uh_

Ah yes, good. The profound words of Captain Takashi Shirogane, immortalised on the internet forever. Surely this is what everyone signed up for when he opened this account.

     **_keith shirogane_ ** replying to @tshiro01  
_he’s not looking yet_ _  
_           _do it when I give you the signal_

The signal? What is the godforsaken signal? How is he supposed to know when—

A hand on his thigh pulls him back from the spiral of his thoughts, and he whips his head back to face Keith again. He watches him lick his lips and tilt his chin up with hooded eyes, and instinct kicks in. A hand goes to his delicate neck as Shiro bows down into him. He brushes his thumb over the old scar on his cheek as he captures a plush lip between his own. Shiro can almost imagine a soft whimper that whispers across his lips, and it emboldens him to adjust the angle and crowd him gently. When they part once more, Keith doesn't pull back entirely right away, nose brushing against his as he glances up to him.

“Yeah, I think that was probably convincing,” he says as he leans back into his pillow.

Shiro almost wheezes.  
“Ah, good I suppose…”

He doesn't understand how he can get straight back to his datapad after something like that, but in the interests of trying to seem unaffected too, Shiro does the same.

_Hi, I'd like to check myself into the hospi_

Perfect. Very calm and collected. Shouldn't at all betray the fact that his personal horsemen have arrived to rain down an apocalypse for one.

 **_keith shirogane  
_ ** _we need practice_

Shiro frowns. That was a perfectly good kiss in his humble opinion, fake or not. Did Keith think that it was lacking? Did he think—

A kiss to his cheek stops him dead, and suddenly the emergency call button looks terribly inviting. He ill-advisedly channels his nervous energy into a new tweet.

_Normal married things. Husband activities. Life._

Keith shakes with laughter beside him, and it's enough to start calming the irrational panic swirling inside of him, just a little. But he still needs to cool off.

_I’m going to go see if the hospital has shower facilities._

Keith hums in acknowledgement beside him, so Shiro knows he's seen it. But when he swings his legs over the side of the bed, he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes?”

Keith answers him with another quick kiss that pulls a shocked little gasp out of him. And surely, enough is enough by now.

“More spies,” he explains away, leaving Shiro gaping. He's only going to be able to let out a strangled sound if he tries to speak, so he simply swipes up his datapad and leaves before he can embarrass himself any further.

He's half way down the hall when his datapad lights up with a notification and he remembers to breathe.

 **_keith shirogane_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_if you don’t come back in 15 I’m coming after you  
_           _can you grab me a drink_

He laughs in spite of himself, the sound a little manic to his own ears. Fifteen minutes won't be enough for him to have a proper shower like he needs, and he's not willing to test just how serious Keith is. Instead, he just washes his face in the basin once a nurse points him in the right direction, and tries to coach himself in the mirror.

“You're Takashi Shirogane. You survived an alien fighting arena. You used to lead a giant sentient mecha weapon in space. You're the Captain of the greatest ship the Earth has ever seen. You can manage a night pretending to be someone's husband.”

It's the least convincing pep talk he's given anyone in his entire life. And it takes far longer than he expects, because when he glances at his datapad, he only has just a bit over five left on that fifteen minute limit. He rushes by commissary on his way back to purchase a juice for Keith as requested.

“What kind would you like, Captain? Fruit punch or mixed berry?”

Shiro panics anew. A good husband should know which juice his partner would like. A good husband wouldn't go into crisis mode over quiznacking berry or punch. It feels like the whole facade is crumbling beneath him all over again.  
“Perhaps just one of each,” he says sheepishly. “I'll drink whatever one he doesn't want.”

The girl behind the desk smiles, and Shiro thinks maybe he's gotten away with it. He passes over his card when she returns and books it with a glance of the clock. Ninety seconds. He can make it.

Keith is pulling back his sheets when he returns, but he stops short with a relieved smile when he sees him. For a moment, Shiro can truly believe it to be a look of love.

“Honey I'm home,” he says, brandishing the juice boxes, and Keith snorts.

“Get over here, you idiot.”  
He laughs at Shiro's pout, and shuffles closer when he moves to place the boxes on his bedside table.

“I wasn't sure which one you'd want,” he says as Keith snaps a picture on his datapad, “so I thought I'd give you options.”

“Very considerate.”

“I try.”

Keith stabs a straw into the mixed berry and drains it so quickly that Shiro lets him have the punch too. It's late, far past when he should be sleeping - especially after today's events - but he shows no sign of settling even after Shiro sits down in the chair beside him and scrolls through the incident report in silence. But procrastination and exhaustion are cruel mistresses for concentration, and the little blue app calls to him again.

_How is he still wide awake?_

It only takes a few minutes for Keith to notice.

 **_keith shirogane_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _I know you’re talking about me kashi_

Shiro glances up to see a violet gaze already on him, and he rolls his eyes.

 _I never said I wasn’t, uh...._ _  
_ _Sunshine._

Keith makes a horrible choking sound on his straw a moment later, and Shiro looks up in concern.  
“Keith, are you okay? Do you need a nurse?”  
There's a pink tint to his cheeks as he coughs and puts down the drink, hiding behind his datapad as he shakes his head. The one in Shiro's hands lights up with a new notification.

 **_keith shirogane  
_ ** _SUNSHINE_

And oh. _Oh_. Suddenly the tables have turned. Shiro feels a rush of power come over him.

 _Is that bad?_ _  
_ _Peach? Honey bun? Lovebird?_

**_keith shirogane_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _stop_

Someone should tell Keith that he looks pretty when he blushes.

_Whatever you say..... sweet heart. Other half. One and only._

**_keith shirogane_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _nO_

Shiro bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. Because this is the most ridiculous thing in the world, and seeing Keith getting flustered over it all makes it easier to forget the day they've had.

_Okay, baby._

Keith goes horribly still at that, staring at his screen, and Shiro suddenly wonders if he's overstepped the mark. Then the silence is punctuated with a loud crack and the crunch of glass shards scraping against one another in his hands.

“Keith!”

Shiro flies to his feet to gather up the splinters as Keith blinks at the two halves of his datapad.

“Oh… I think I broke it…” he says distantly, in what is probably the understatement of the year.

“I can see that.”

“Huh.”

“Pidge is going to kill us.”

Keith gives an airy laugh.  
“Yeah… yeah she probably will. Ha…”

“I'll deal with it,” Shiro says, gently easing the destroyed device out of his hands. “You should sleep. I think you might be overtired. And the sooner you recover, the sooner we can go home.”

Keith grumbles, but he does settle down into the bed a little further.  
“You'll stay with me then?”

Shiro smiles as he places the pieces down on the bedside table.  
“Of course. I'm your husband, aren't I?”  
Something sad flitters across Keith's face that catches him off-guard.

“A good night kiss for your husband, then?” he asks, and it's not as bold as before, almost nervous. It's enough to compel Shiro to learn down without thinking about spies and facades. He lingers when Keith kisses back, then presses his lips to his forehead tenderly before he sits back in his chair.

“Good night Keith. I'll be right here if you need anything, okay?”

Keith nods shyly and Shiro hits the light switch beside him, using the darkness to cover any sign of his racing heart. When Keith's breath starts evening out, he takes up his own - thankfully still whole - datapad to open up his feed again.

_Keith snapped his datapad in half._

He only has to wait a minute before judgement comes.

   **_Pidge_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _Another datapad broken......_

Given that's three this week now, it's a rather measured reply.

_Sorry, Pidge. Don’t know what happened._

**_Pidge_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _I’d say “baby” was probably the main reason, amongst other things._

_Ahaha, I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll put in a request for a new one for him._

**_Pidge_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _I will PERSONALLY make sure that thing is petname-proofed so you two goofs don’t break another one_

Shiro stifles a laugh so he won't wake Keith.

_Don’t think that’ll be a big concern. It’s just until tomorrow._

**_Pidge_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _Better safe than sorry, Shiro._

He feels suitably chastised, though he's sure he'll cop it a little more when they see each other in the morning. At least neither Matt nor Lance have seen just yet. There's only so much mockery he can deal with at once. He glances up over the top of the datapad to where Keith sleeps, looking so peaceful in spite of the bandages and bruises. His guardian angel, swooping in to save him yet again. A terrifying, wonderful, unstoppable force. The light in his life.

_I’ll just stick with sunshine. That’s what he is, anyways._

Keith's palm sits face up on the top of his bedsheet, and Shiro rests his datapad against his knees so he can reach up to take hold of it.

_... How am I going to survive one more day of this?_

How will he survive a lifetime of this? Of the heavy feeling in chest and the pounding in his ears. Of having him so tantalisingly close, yet not close enough.

_I hope I’m a good husband._

Because maybe it's all a lie, but for now, alone in the dark, Shiro can pretend for a moment that it's real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've spat out two chapters of this already. RPTron has me by the neck.
> 
> Send me your condolences at [tumblr](https://copilotsheith.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith).


	3. Chapter 3: P*******s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 3-4: Never challenge Allura to a... popsicle... contest.

It turns out that it only takes five words to initiate Shiro's self destruct sequence.

 ** _k  
_ ** _remember when we were married_

It's almost laughable, how just a single tweet can paralyse him to the spot. He supposes Keith doesn't even realise the carnage he rains down on him when he speaks so flippantly. How could he know? The whole thing had been a scam after all, nothing more. Just a means to ensure Keith wouldn't have to endure his hospital visit alone. It's terribly presumptuous of Shiro to believe it could have changed anything at all for them.

He tries to contain his ongoing internal crisis with a joke, because that's always been his way: a joke to lighten the mood, when the thought of confronting his real feelings is far too much.

_Like it was yesterday._

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__can’t believe I was keith shirogane_

Shiro swallows. Even now, the words activate some kind of fight or flight response in him. And he knows it will come across as another joke, but his reply is achingly sincere.

_The name looked good on you._

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__you look good_

 ** _k_ ** replying to @tshiro01  
_with the last name_  
_uh  
          look good with shirogane_

And thank God Iverson decides to arrive then, because Shiro doesn't think he knows how to possibly respond.

It’s habit now to pick up his datapad the moment the meeting ends. And if he skips over his feed to click on the search bar and select the first result waiting there for him… Well, that was his business only.

 **** _ **k**_  
_I need to_  
_cool down_  
_is there ice cream_  
_a popsicle_  
_iced water_

Shiro frowns. Does Keith have a fever? Is that something that can happen after the injuries he sustained? Okay, no, that's ridiculous. No one in human history has ever caught a fever from a few bruised ribs and scratches, no matter how nasty. He's fretting. Although… _human_ history? It could be a Galra thing. Maybe. Krolia would have mentioned something by now though, surely.

Perhaps it's best to be safe than sorry.

_I can grab you some on my way back. I pass by the kitchen. Pretty sure they had some ice cream left over._

******_k_**  
_thanks  
_ _I can always count on you_

Shiro wishes he wasn't so pathetic that a simple tweet would make his blood run warm. He tries to hide the stupid smile on his face as he walks the halls, clicking back to scroll through the other replies. Allura's catches his eye - something about popsicles being health hazards - and Shiro doesn't quite understand. He juggles the datapad in one hand as he reaches the ice box, digging around as he taps out a defence.

_Guys, I’m sure Keith can eat a popsicle with no problem. Leave him be._

It only takes a moment for a reply to come through.

 ** _k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__at least you believe in me_

He finally snags a box stuck to the side of the freezer. Huh, cherry. He supposes that will do. Cherry isn't far from berry after all.

 ** _Katie_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__Better watch him just to be sure though._

Bizarre. He's not so sure where this sudden concern about the dangers of iced treats comes from. Maybe he should be concerned. His datapad pings again as he tries to fish one of the popsicles from the box.

 **_k  
_ ** _I’ll show you allura_

 ** _allura_ ** _replying to @002_kth  
__Bring it on, black paladin._

 ** _k_ ** _replying to @allura_06  
__meet me in the common room_

 ** _allura_ ** _replying to @002_kth  
__On it._

 ** _k_ ** _replying to @allura_06_  
_you’ll see  
          I’ll shove the whole damn thing in my mouth_

 _ **Katie** replying to @002_kth and @allura_06_  
_Keith-  
__nO_

Shoving… whole?... Huh?? It’s only now Shiro realises he's been standing with his prosthetic wedged in the ice box for at least a full minute. He's suddenly thankful no one has walked into the kitchen yet to witness his impending breakdown. What happened to just cooling down?

_What..... is going on....?_

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_common room now  
__I’m gonna show her how wrong she is_

 ** _Katie_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__Please go to the common room and make sure Keith doesn’t hurt himself_

 ** _allura_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__Keith is showing me how far he can stick a popsicle in his mouth in the common room._

What?!

_@002_kth sent you a message_

Oh, God…

 ** _k:_ ** _bring a whole box this is war_

Shiro doesn't remember a time he ever felt more defeated. Not in the arena, not in front of Zarkon's armies, not locked in Black's consciousness.

_Here I thought I could finally relax._

It's hard not to feel like he's walking to the gallows when his footsteps echo back to him in the hallway.

_I just wanted to have a relaxing night. Get some light reading in. Maybe grab a snack._

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__you can do that after_

Shiro has a horrible sense of foreboding that that just isn't true. And when Keith intercepts his path out of nowhere on the way, it fails to put him at ease.

“Oh good, cherry. My favourite,” he says as he rifles through the box. “Yeah, I reckon twenty-four will be enough.”

Shiro feels faint.  
“Twenty-f— _Keith_ , there is no way you will need this many. It was just the first box I could find.”

The shrug he gets in response is like a gunshot to the chest.  
“Never underestimate the enemy, Shiro,” he says far too seriously, pulling two of the wrappers from the box.

Shiro can't help but feel he's made a terrible mistake as Keith turns and leaves him to follow helplessly.

 **_allura  
_ ** _@002_kth Show your face so we may partake._

 ** _k_ ** _replying to @allura_06_  
_you’re already behind  
_ _I’ve got 2 popsicles unwrapped and I’m coming in that room swallowing them whole_

 ** _allura_ ** _replying to @002_kth  
__Where did you get the p_

It’s too late. He knows he has to accept his part in this.

_I’m here. Behind him. Providing._

**_allura_ ** _replying to @tshiro01 and @002_kth  
__Don’t watch this._

Keith flashes a grin over his shoulder when he hears him sigh.

_No worries. Just the popsicle holder._

Allura pounces on him the second they arrive in the common room, and it's all Shiro can do but to make sure he doesn't drop the entire box on the ground under her enthusiasm.

“Really princess,” he laments, “I expected more from you.”

Allura pouts at the word _cherry_ on her wrapper, as if it has personally offended her.  
“This is a judgement-free zone, Captain,” she says, but he knows the haughty tone is just for show.  
“Watch me destroy your ex-husband here and now.”

 _Ex_ -husband? Shiro knows it's just a joke, but the word slithers through his belly and makes him want to be ill. It's a horrendous thought. He should be so lucky to ever have someone as wonderful as Keith. And God knows if he were ever granted the privilege, he would never let that go. Never. Anyone who did would have to be a complete and utter moron. The universe's greatest fool. An undeniable idiot.

He doesn't have long to dwell on it though, because Allura has already discarded one of her wrappers and Keith is bouncing on his toes and stretching his neck side to side as if preparing for a battle royale. Atlas help him, this is actually happening.

The good news is that Pidge seems just as horrified by the scene in front of them. And she's already live-tweeting her distress as Shiro sits down on the table beside her with a resigned sigh. At least he doesn't have to suffer alone.

 **_Katie  
_ ** _My heart is POUNDING why do I have to be a part of this_

Shiro adjusts the box of _cherry classic_ on his lap to tap out a reply as the trash talking begins in front of him.

_Just look the other way until they’re done. I have medical on speed dial._

**_Katie_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__Well if I look away you better keep watch just in case._

_My eyes don’t work._

**_Katie_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__Don’t be a coward he’s doing this for you_

_How is he doing this for me? Allura was the one who said popsicles were a hazard, and Keith took it the wrong way._

**_Katie_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__just watch him!_

He looks up to Pidge with a frown, but she simply nods her head in the direction of the face-off that's about to begin. And suddenly, _suddenly_ … all that lingering dread comes to fruition.

To say it's a religious experience wouldn't be wrong. Shiro is fairly certain he feels his soul depart his body the second Keith's lips wrap around the tip of the popsicle. Whether he's destined for heaven or hell remains to be seen, but he's putting bets on the latter for his involvement in this debacle. But his torment at the hands of the devil is only just beginning. With far too much determination, Keith tilts his head back and takes the popsicle down further and further and…

Pidge snickers beside him, and it activates a full body blush that consumes him worse than any hellfire could. Keith removes the instrument of icey sin with a slick _pop_ and a gasp, but the triumphant look he levels Allura disappears immediately when she removes her stick clean with a wink. He gives a growl that hits Shiro like a punch in the gut, and it's the only warning he gets before Keith shoves _both_ popsicles into his mouth at once. Shiro is the only one who chokes, and Pidge thumps him on the back in a sadistic show of sympathy.

Allura laughs, and Keith tries to elbow her out of the way when the two of them rush Shiro to grab another two each. It's worse up close. While Shiro feels _abundantly_ aware of the lack of gag reflex from either party, he can now see that there's a light flush high on Keith's cheeks and a hint of tears in the corners of his eyes, and somehow that makes it so much worse. He gives Shiro a sheepish little smile before he darts back, and Shiro fights back the visions of cherry-glossed lips that threaten to overtake him. He realises too late that Keith now has three popsicles firmly in hand, and he all but shoves the box at Pidge before the rest can melt in his molten grip.

_Why_

_Please_

_God_

Pidge winces _audibly_ beside him, and it draws his attention back just in time to see Keith swallow down all three without so much as blinking.

_I'm retiring._

**_Katie_ **   
_This isn’t how I wanted to spend my night I can’t look either of them in the eye anymore_  
_I don’t think I can be in the same room with them anymore._

“Don't think you should slow down?” he asks weakly when Allura and Keith come back for more.

“Yeah, feel free to quit whenever, Keith,” Allura teases, her voice a little strained.

It's absolutely the wrong thing to say. Shiro wonders if it would be unreasonable to cry when Keith growls and grabs a fistful more.

“Never.”

By now, it's like a trainwreck. Horrifying, but impossible to look away. Shiro wonders if he'll have to call medical for himself at this rate. By the time Pidge shakes the box empty, Shiro decides he's not going to heaven or hell. It's purgatory, and he's living it right now.

_I never want to see another p******e in my life again._

Allura is disappointed when Pidge shows her the empty box, but Keith almost looks like he's swaying on his feet as he wipes his red-stained lips on the back of his hand, pouting at his datapad.

 **_K  
_ ** _I ate too many_

Shiro rolls his eyes at the tweet, providing his own update.

_We ran out. They tied._

Keith hiccups and clasps a hand over his mouth, suddenly looking a bit pale. And oh no... Shiro can see where this is going.

_Time to take Keith to the infirmary._

He moves to him to ease the datapad out of his fingers, handing both of theirs over to Pidge where he knows they'll be safe. Best not to make it four this week.  
“Take these back to our room, Pidge?”

Even she looks a bit green as she stares at Keith.  
“Aye, aye Captain.”

“And you, Cherrybomb,” he says, turning his attention back to Keith. “Reckon you can walk right now?”

Keith shakes his head carefully, hand still held tight to his mouth.

“Want me to carry you?”

Nod, nod. Shiro sighs.

“Alright then. Easy does it.”

An arm wraps tight around the back of his neck as he slides his own under Keith's knees and back and very, _very_ carefully lifts. _Bridal carry_ , his brain helpfully supplies. Shiro hates irony. Wary not to jostle him and upset the fragile situation in his arms, Shiro turns to the others, honestly embarrassed for his role in all of this.

“Make sure all those wrappers find their way into a bin,” he says lamely, before making his exit.

He tries to rush in a measured way, conscious of the death grip Keith has on him and his prolonged silence. But they only make it half as far to the infirmary before Keith's stomach announces its revolt with a sickly gurgle. Keith smacks his shoulder frantically, and Shiro quickly sets him down in front of the nearest trash can in a panic, just in time for him to start hurling. He quickly gathers up his hair out of his face, cooing soothing nonsense to him as he heaves. Keith is not a delicate vomiter. He jolts and sobs and makes horrible noises that seem to echo off the walls, but Shiro just strokes his back calmly and talks him through it with gentle words.

It's disgusting, and Shiro resolves never to consume cherry-anything for the rest of his cursed life, but when Keith finally retrieves his head out of the trash to look up to him with a sorry expression, his heart tugs. The sweaty hair, teary eyes and red dibble at the corner of his mouth shouldn't be endearing, but somehow it is, and Shiro wonders if it's just because it's him. He supposes it's official: he really is too far gone.

“Done?” he asks evenly, and Keith croaks out a reply.

“Think so.”

“Good,” he murmurs, ignoring the look of surprise when he wipes Keith's mouth with his shirtsleeve. “Can you stand?”

“Y-yeah.”

He doesn't make a convincing case when he wobbles to his feet, so Shiro simply picks him up again.  
“Alright then Cherrybomb. Time to get you fixed up, I guess.”

“No...”  
And Shiro stops dead. Keith ducks his head, hiding his face into his neck, and Shiro tries not to burn under him.  
“I just… I just wanna go home now. Please.”

Shiro sighs and rests his chin over his head, resisting the urge to press a kiss into his hair.

“Of course, Sunshine,” he murmurs under his breath.

He sends him straight to the shower when they get back, gathering up their soiled laundry so it's one less thing to think about later. He finds their datapads on the kitchen bench as he tries to stay busy, and reminds himself to thank Pidge tomorrow.

“There's soup if you think you can stomach it,” he says when Keith emerges, wet hair and shamefaced. Shiro tries to spare him by looking anywhere but his eyes as he retrieves his towel.  
“At the very least, you should have some water before bed. There's a bucket just in case. Don't stay up too long.”

It's not particularly warm out, but Shiro sets the water to freezing before he steps under the spray. In spite of everything, the image of Keith's spit-slick lips around his popsicle won't leave him alone, and Shiro lets his forehead fall into the tiles in front of him with a painful thud. He's pretty sure even being fake-married to his best friend for two days doesn't give him the slightest permission to start jerking off to the thought of him in their shared shower.

 _“Think about math, Shiro,”_ he pleads with himself. _“Politics. Grandmas in bikinis._ Zarkon _in a bikini.”_

All his hard work gets immediately wasted when he opens his datapad on his bed and clicks his first notification. Okay, so apparently the fanart phenomenon has spread to the Leader of Voltron now. And Twitter has some _very_ interesting interpretations of what went down at Popsiclegate.

 **_k  
_ ** _shiro just knocked into the room divider_

Shiro doesn't know why he wouldn't just answer, but at least this spares him having the conversation out loud.

 _Don’t_    
_Don’t look at anything you’re tagged in_

 **** _ **k** replying to @tshiro01_  
_ok  
__I won’t_

_Promise?_

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__yup_

Shiro thinks he might actually finally know peace until Keith updates again.

 ****_**k** _  
_shiro_  
_pidge says to ask you what I can practice on_

This is the bad reality, he decides.

_Pidge._

Betrayed by everyone, even his own team. Keith isn't immune to it either, because he sees him reply to yet another… artistic expression of his popsicle wielding abilities. Shiro contemplates how incriminating another shower would be at this point.

_Just let me last the night._

**_Katie_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__Take the opportunity, CAPTAIN_

He would ask Matt for help if he wasn't so sure he would team up with his sister against him.

_Pidge_

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__shiro_

And Shiro pauses over his keyboard, trying to find the right words to say.

_Get some rest. You’re still recovering, and what you did tonight didn’t help._

Twitter goes blissfully quiet, and with a sigh, Shiro finally gets to the reports he's been ignoring for hours now. He's almost finished when a notification appears at the top of his screen and he contemplates knocking on the divider when he sees Keith's handle. He should be sleeping. Instead, he opens up the app.

 ******_k_**  
**** **** _he lied to the hospital so he could be trapped in a room for 2 days still working because I wanted him to stay with me_  
_he carried me out to the infirmary immediately and rubbed my back and held my hair up while I threw up into a trash can  
_ **** **** _he always stands up for me_

Shiro feels a lump form in his throat. Because of course he will always be there for him. He doesn't understand why it still takes him by surprise after all this time.

 **** _ **k**_  
_he was almost denied because of his illness_  
_he was experimented on and forced to fight_ _  
__he gave his own life to save the universe_

Maybe he should knock. Just to let him know he's awake. Just to let him know he can see and that he's still here.

 **** ** _k_**  
_shiro is_  
****_.... he’s everything_

He's sick and sugar high, Shiro reminds himself. He can’t hold him to it. But God... God, does he want to.

 ****_**k** _  
_he’s not good with his feelings but he can lead an army to victory_  
_he can’t cook but he survived the galra_  
_he’s shiro  
there’s nobody like him_

Shiro swallows, scrolling back to the previous update. It would be so easy to simply speak. To say the words out loud and let them settle between them. But it's easier still to just hit reply.

_And you’re everything._

A stillness goes through the air that puts Shiro on edge. He knew it. He should have just stayed silent. Let Keith say his piece then delete it and pretend it never happened. He has to fix it, explain away his feelings. He opens a new tweet to try to calm his sudden, irrational panic.

_You’re always defending me._

His heart stops when he's notified of the reply.

 ** _k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__I’ll never stop_

 ** _k_ ** _replying to @002_kth and @tshiro01  
__you defended me when no one else would_

Shiro doesn't know why he wants to cry.

 ******_k_ **  
_hey_  
_I love you_

The response comes without question. Without hesitation.

_Love you, too._

There's muffled footsteps on the floor, and when the divider slides open, Shiro simply lifts the blanket and sets his datapad aside as a warm body crawls in beside him. A hand spreads over his heart as he pulls him close, and sleep - so far away only moments ago - rushes in to pull him down gently.

“Good night, Kashi,” his angel whispers in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never felt more second hand embarrassment in my life so please feel free to shame me on [tumblr](https://copilotsheith.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith).


	4. Chapter 4: Brofriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 8: Comfort holds and curiosity

Shiro rarely runs from his problems, but when he does, he sprints.

Perhaps it's not quite right to call this a problem. A spanner, maybe. An unexpected variable he hadn't prepared for. Sugar in the tank of his personal doomsday rocket.

“I haven't been completely honest with you,” he tells him, once the bike is parked by the road's edge and the goggles are perched in Keith's hair.  
“These last few days— God, far longer than that I guess…”  
He swallows, trying to regain his nerve. He said today. He said he would tell him today. Keith watches, and Shiro can see his defences rising, but he remains silent for the words that come next.

_Out with it, Shirogane._

“I shouldn't have let you move in with me,” he says, and _shit_ , no, Keith's face falls and he scrambles.  
“Not like that, not like that!” he tries to salvage, waving his hands. “You've done nothing wrong, you've been… you've been _great_ . It's all me, it's all— _Keith_ …”

All in all, this is going terribly.

“Keith, I can't keep doing this to you because it's not right. The touching, the bed sharing, the…” A nervous hand goes through his hair. “I can’t keep taking advantage of you, because I know you love me and it's fine for you, but I _love_ you and it's not the same and I know it's sick to use you like this for some kind of domestic fantasy and I—”

“Wait,” Keith cuts in, and it sounds almost angry. Shiro gulps, bracing. “What do you mean _not the same_? What are you trying to say?”

Shiro hears the distress seep into his own voice.  
“Keith I'm so sorry,” he pleads. “I never want to make you feel uncomfortable but I can't lie to you. Every time you're close to me, every time I wake up and see you right there beside me, I'm scared I'm going to do something stupid.”  
He runs a hand over his face, revising.  
“I already have.” He might as well confess it all. “I've kissed you. While you were sleeping— ugh, that sounds creepy out loud, I'm so sorry. I completely understand if—”

“Shiro.”

He can't meet his eyes. The shame is too much to bear.

“What the hell do you think we've been doing since Tuesday?”

Shiro blinks, looking up to the frown Keith wears.  
“Huh?”

“What? Did you not think that this?” Shiro stares dumbly as Keith gestures between the two of them. “Us?”

“Us?” Shiro repeats in a trance.

Keith looks frustrated and dumbstruck in equal measures.  
“Aren't we? Already?”  
And it sounds a little desperate in a way that makes Shiro panic.

“... Huh?” he says again, because his wits have abandoned him. Keith flushes crimson. Oh. _Oh_ . He thought… They actually… And he...  
“I'm sorry,” he says faintly, because yes, maybe he has been so stressed he’s been hospitalised this week, but there's no way they have been _dating_ these last few days without him even realising. “I just… need a moment…”

Which is why now he runs. Not right away. It starts as a very calm turn on his heel, away from Keith's gaping expression. His pace is rather steady for the first five or six steps. Then it develops into more of a stilted power walk, to a light jog until he feels he's a respectable distance into the cover of the scrub to start straight up racing away from the reality behind him.

He's gasping for breath when he finally plants his head against the trunk of an old Emory oak, but it's not from exertion. He's fairly sure he's about to have a full blown panic attack because Keith seems to think they're together and— wait, isn't this what he wants anyway? Christ, did he just _run away_ from that?

Because there is no God above, or if there is, he's one sadistic son of a bitch, Shiro feels the notification go off in his pocket. He wonders if maybe it was a simpler, more peaceful time when his ancestors would have never had coverage in the middle of the desert. He envies them. He pulls out the device in his pocket as if it were a bomb, and fights down the dread when he opens the app.

 **_keith  
_ ** _HE DIDN’T KNOW_

 **_keith  
_ ** _HE DIDN’ T FUCKINGK KNOWNOEXN_

 **_keith  
_ ** _SHIRO_

 **_keith  
          _ ** _WE TALKED 2 DAYS AGO_

Shiro's panic translates into capital letters too.

_YOU SAID LET’S KEEP GOING IN THIS DIRECTION_

And sure, hindsight is twenty-twenty, but present-Shiro still thinks past-Shiro deserves a pass on that one.

 **_keith  
_ ** _you didn’t think it was weird I held hands with you yesterday_

Shiro scrambles to defend himself.

    _I THOUGHT IT WAS A COMFORT HOLD_

 **_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _a C OMFORT HOLD_

Well, okay, maybe it does look a little silly repeated back to him.

 **_keith  
          _ ** _COMFORT HOLD_

Alright, a _lot_ silly. Nevertheless!

 _I thought you were just curious. With the kiss from before. You know. Because_ _  
_ _yyeah_

 **_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _CURIOUS_

The silver lining is that Twitter is definitely helping him remain humble. It's hard not to when his pride is under incessant attack.

 **_keith  
          _ ** _I’VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU FOR HOW MANY YEARS_

In… _in_ love? No. No, no. He can’t use that. Not when…

_YOU SAID LIKE A BROTHER BEFORE_

**_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _I'M_

This is the most ridiculous day of Shiro's life. And he's had a lot of ridiculous days lately.

 ******keith**  
_I’ll show you_ _  
_ _come back here I’ll f ucking show you_

Come back? Shiro doesn't think he has the ability. His legs are weak, his head is swimming and he's fairly sure his heart is trying to pound it's way out of its fleshy prison. But a streak of red flying up the hill toward him tells him he doesn't have to. Shiro can already spy the snarled lip and violet determination, and it's a fight he's already lost willingly.

_He’S so fast on his FEJrjebskdb_

Keith slams into him hard enough to stumble back heavily into the tree behind him, knocking the datapad out of his hands and the air out of his lungs. Violent hands tug at the lapels of his racer jacket and draw him down into a crash of a kiss, claws and teeth. Shiro goes pliant out of instinct, and it takes a moment for the world to return around him. Keith doesn't relent, and it's nothing like the sweet kisses they swapped in a hospital bed over worries and lies. There’s no respite until Shiro is gasping, and even then Keith only draws back just enough to gulp a lungful of his own before diving back in again. This time, Shiro regains enough of his senses to be more than a mere victim in this onslaught. Keith shifts on his feet when Shiro’s hand falls to his hip, and his breath hitches against his lips when the fingers there test and press in. It flips a switch in Shiro, and the palm of his prosthetic braces the small of his back. He meets his force with a little of his own, and Keith bows beautifully under the weight bearing down on him. Shiro chases the whimper that follows, laughing breathlessly when Keith nips at his bottom lip in a transparent attempt to maintain a front of control. They're both panting when they pull apart, and Shiro blinks black spots out of his vision as Keith glares up at him.

“Is this enough comfort for you?” he asks, all righteous fury.  
“Feeling at ease there, _bro_?”

“Shut up,” Shiro groans.

“Make me.”

And who would he be if he didn't rise to the challenge. But he's a little more gentle when he kisses him this time, and Keith responds in kind, the grip on his jacket morphing from possession to desperation. He looks dazed when Shiro pulls back and pulls him up to his own feet, and it stokes the dying embers of his bruised ego back to life.

“I feel like I have to be very clear here,” Shiro says seriously, and Keith's brow creases with concern. “That was definitely a not-fake, very _un_ brotherly kiss for me, and I'm under the distinct impression that we might not be just roommates that occasionally cuddle in pillowforts or sleep in each others beds, and that maybe - _maybe -_ we might be seeing other, you know, non-platonically?”

Keith rolls his eyes so hard it makes Shiro's ache in sympathy, but he loops his arms around the back of his neck and pulls him close.  
“Dunno where you got that idea.”

“Don't be cute,” Shiro grumbles, pinching his hip. “After the week I've had, I'm going to need it in writing.”

“I can’t believe you dragged me out into the desert to confess when I've been in a relationship with you for the past two days,” he teases.

Shiro has some excellent ideas on how to wipe the smirk off of his face. But first…  
“Is that what this is?” he asks softly. “Are we together?”

It hurts to see the confidence in his face flicker, but Shiro needs to hear it, so he holds firm.  
“Y-yes?”  
Suddenly the bark over Shiro's shoulder seems to be terribly fascinatingly.  
“I mean, if you want it t—”

“Yes,” Shiro interrupts, so there is no doubt. “I've wanted this for far too long. I only wish I said something sooner. I want to be with you.”  
The relief in his eyes is a sweeter kind of pain.

“I wanna be with you too,” he breathes.

With a huff of a laugh, Shiro cradles his chin and bows his head so he can feel his breath ghost his lips.  
“Good,” he says softly, kissing him once, chaste and fleeting.

“Good,” Keith returns in a whisper.

“Let's get back to the bike before it gets dark.”

It turns out the bike hasn't waited for them though. Keith panics, vehemently assuring him he hadn't moved it before he began his pursuit. And sure, maybe hoverbikes don't need kickstands, but it's not particularly clever to leave one alone on the slope of hill with a drop-off of about 300 feet at the base. Shiro has a sneaking suspicion he knows what's gone wrong, walking to the cliff's edge.

“Good thing I paid for those automatic stall thrusters,” he comments dryly.  
He catches Keith's shoulder as he takes a step forward.  
“ _Don't_ even think about it. Even if I was comfortable with you climbing down there, we're losing light too quickly. It's too dangerous.”

“So what? We _walk_ to the Garrison?”

“Or get someone to pick us up,” Shiro replies mildly, trying not to let his amusement seep through. Keith flushes though and taps at his datawatch without another word.

From up here, it doesn't look too damaged, but he'll know better when he's closer. And if not… it's just a bike. He'll tell Keith that. He's just about to ask if he's had any luck arranging their lift when large paws catch him in the chest out of nowhere, sending him to ground and adding insult with the swipe of a tongue against his cheek.

“Gentle!” Keith scolds somewhere above him.

The wolf jumps off of him in favour of the attention Keith immediately lavishes on him. The creature must have a sixth sense for when Keith is in trouble. Either that, or Shiro will have to remember to thank Krolia later. Keith helps him back to his feet but doesn't let go of his hand once he's steady, linking his fingers between the spaces of his. They've held hands before, but somehow, now, it's different. Warm, and firm, and lasting. Shiro is reluctant to let go when they teleport down to the bike below.

The bike won't turn over, but Shiro works to quickly soothe the guilt on Keith's face.  
“I can fix it, it's nothing,” he assures. “Just give me fifteen minutes and we'll be flying again.”

He sends him off with the wolf so he won't fret, and it gives him a moment with his thoughts. The past few days… well, they've been exhausting. Shiro's not sure if hospital loyalty cards are a thing, but maybe they should be for the sheer amount of use he would have got out of one this week alone. Stay three nights, get the fourth free. Or a bed for your fake husband, maybe. And then there's the talk he and Keith had the other night, long overdue and sorely needed after their shared clone trauma. Shiro should have realised then that that night had redefined them. That when he had taken Keith into his arms to absolve him of his guilt, he had offered back far more than mutual forgiveness and acceptance. It should have been plainly obvious the following night when he fell asleep beside him in an instant, safe in the knowledge Shiro was there with him.

He is an A-grade moron, he's starting to realise. Looking back paints a rather stark picture. The art, the hospital kissing practice and - God, he promised never to think about it again butit's _toolatenow_ \- popsicles. Was that on purpos— no, not going down that rabbithole. Some things are best left unknown.

He tries the ignition again, and to his relief it sputters, then hums into life.

_Keith, come back and help. I got it fixed._

_**keith** replying to @tshiro01_  
           _ok_  
_coming_ _  
comfort friend_

He's never going to live that down, he knows. They'll be wheeling him into the nursing home and he'll hear Keith ask if he could do with a comfort hug and a comfort kiss. The thought makes him smile.

He catches the comments of some of the other Paladins and general public as he scrolls through Keith's tweets. It's not really anyone else's business, but he doesn't want to leave Keith high and dry.

_Keith and I are together._

There's a flurry of likes and replies that he plans to ignore, but then a familiar handle appears on his feed.

 **_allura_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _What kind of together_

Shiro sighs, but typing the words ignites a warm that spreads through his chest. He looks up as a flash appears a few feet away and he sees Keith walk toward him. He can't help the smile.

_As in... romantically._

He tosses Keith a small wrench from the bike kit, which he deftly catches. The wolf must decide his work is done, because he disappears with another flash, leaving them alone.

“Just replace the wing covers on that side and make sure everything's screwed in nice and tight. We'll be out of here in no time.”

“Roger, Captain.”

 **_allura_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _Also, congratulations. I love you both dearly and you deserve all the happiness in the world._

Shiro knows he doesn't need the approval of his friends to be happy. But it certainly doesn't hurt.

 _Thanks, Allura. We’ve been through tough times together— and he’s always seen me as I am._ _  
_ _Words can’t explain how much I appreciate him._

 **_Lance  
          _ ** _@002_kth @tshiro01  FINALLG IM SO HAPPY FOR U GUYS!!!_

“Is Lance drunk?” Shiro asks, bemused.

“Yah-huh,” Keith says, eyes on his task. “Veronica is going to nail him to the wall when she sees.”

_Ahaha, thanks Lance. I’m happy, too._

“I'm almost done here oldtimer. Get off that thing and hurry up.”

Shiro throws him a Bronx cheer, putting the datapad on the bike seat with the display still on. When he finishes with his last bolt, he glances back at it and his heart stops.

 **_keith  
          _ ** _it was never going to be anyone but you_

Very carefully, he picks up the datapad to reply.

_I love you._

He moves to check the security of the panels at the rear of the bike, hearing the quiet blip of Keith's watch and then, far more startling, a soft sob and the clink of metal falling to the ground. His feed refreshes almost instantly in his hand.

 _ **keith** replying to @tshiro01_  
_I  
           _ i lovve you ttoo

He rounds the bike to find him with tears in his eyes.

 **_keith  
          _ ** _I llove youso much_

“C’mere,” he murmurs softly, pulling him flush to his chest where Keith buries his head and starts to shake. When hands rise to clutch at his collar, Shiro reaches to gently disable the device on his wrist.

“I really thought I'd lost you forever.”

“I know.”

“I thought I would never get to have this.”

“I… I know.”

“Even after you died and came back and I promised myself I wouldn't let you slip away… I just couldn't say it again for the longest time.”

“Keith…”

“But I love you.”  
Keith turns his face up to him, all red-rimmed eyes, wet lashes, flushed skin and perfect in the last of the fading dusk light.  
“I _love_ you. I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Sunshine,” Shiro promises, but somehow it only draws more tears.  
“Come on,” he urges. “Sit with me a little while. There's no rush.”

He tries not to laugh when Keith won't let go and they half-stumble closer to the bike, sitting down so his back rests against its body. Keith buries in again, and Shiro gives him a moment to hide as he wants.

_Turned off Keith’s watchpad._

_Time to make up for the crying with some kisses._

The datapad gets turned off and pushed away, and Shiro devotes his full attention to the man in his lap.

“Hey,” he murmurs, urging him to straighten with a hand under his chin. Keith gives a horrible sniff and starlight swims in his eyes when he looks up to him. He blinks, and it spills down his cheek in a silvered stream that Shiro brushes away with a gentle thumb. There isn't anything he can say - “it's okay” or “we made it” or “I'm here” - without it sounding cheap. Keith has always been a man of action anyway.

He catches Keith's eyes fluttering close when he leans down, brushing lips and noses for a quiet moment before he presses in. It's tender and slow, and he feels Keith surrenders control the second they meet. He curls a hand into his hair, letting the strands flow between his fingers before he holds fast at his scalp and gently pulls to tilt his head back a little more. There's a hitch of a breath, and Shiro's not entirely sure it isn't a sob, but then Keith melts into it, resting his head back into the palm of his hand. It tugs at his chest, this unconditional trust Keith shows him, even as he hands over his tightly held heart. He allows himself to be a little bolder, gently flicking the tip of his tongue under his top lip, and to his delight, Keith opens up immediately. Even so, Shiro is slow to deepen the kiss, paying attention to how Keith reacts whenever he tries something new. When Keith tries his hand at copying him, Shiro grins into the kiss, sucking gently at his tongue and preening when Keith's breath comes unsteady.

He draws back in inches just the same, until they devolve into soft, short caresses that end with foreheads pressed and even breath mingled. When Keith asks if they can stay a little longer, Shiro simply nods and pulls him to his chest. Keith turns on the datawatch again, and Shiro heaves a dramatic sigh in his ear when he sees words like “brofriend” and “comfort hold” flash up in front of him. But a little suffering is more than worth it for the prize. They take turns picking out constellations between languid kisses and silly internet updates until Shiro starts to yawn and Keith becomes restless. His cheeks have long dried, and his lips settle into an easy smile when Shiro brushes his hair aside to kiss his brow.

“Feeling okay?” Shiro asks softly.

“Better than okay,” Keith laughs, the sound still edged with the tears shed earlier.

Shiro smiles, kissing down to the scar at his jaw.  
“I'm glad to hear it. I love you.”

“Yeah…” Keith breathes, awestruck. “Yeah, I love you too.”

Shiro drives back to the Garrison under a canopy of stars with the universe resting warm at his back. Keith stays still just a moment longer when they park, and Shiro wonders whether he'll need to carry him in. But then a kiss falls to his shoulder and he springs off the bike, helping him push it into its bay in the garage.

They reach for each other at the same time, and Keith holds fast, even when they reach the mess halls. Shiro has no intention of letting go anyway. It's late enough that they run into no one, and for that, Shiro is grateful - not out of any desire to hide, but in his need to just be alone with this, just a little while longer.

He steals another kiss when Keith perches himself up onto the kitchen table, before digging around for whatever he can reheat for the two of them. While they eat, he watches the expressions playing out on his face as he taps away at his datapad. Lance will never know just how much Keith likes teasing him too when the shoe is on the other foot for a change. Just another little piece of Keith for him alone.

_God, I love him._

It doesn't take long for the response to come through.

 **_just curious_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _say it to my face_

Shiro is only all too willing to oblige, reaching to pull him close and whisper in his ear until he starts squirming. When he watches the attention of Keith's followers turn to his liked tweets, Shiro only joins in long enough to tease, before excusing himself for a shower. It's late, and God knows the Garrison won't disappear tomorrow just because Keith is finally his. The heat of the spray is just starting to seep into his bones when he hears the bathroom door open and Keith's voice echo off the tiles.

“Shiro, Pidge said I should ask—”

Shiro is ashamed of the yelp that comes from him when Keith opens the shower door, as well as his instinct to grab the loofah in a poor attempt to maintain his modesty. But Keith's eyes drop shamelessly and the question stops dead in its tracks.

“J-Jesus, Keith. Give a guy some warning,” he tries to recover, subtly turning to face the shower wall. Keith is still staring far further south than Shiro is currently ready for. “And eyes up, cadet.”

Keith blinks and finally meets his eyes again. But silence reigns between them. Shiro clears his throat.

“And the reason you barged into my shower is?...”

Focus seems to return to Keith's eyes then, and Shiro just about burns up on the spot.  
“Oh yeah, Pidge said I should ask you what _boyfriend things_ -” complete with airquotes, “-we can do together in the shower.”

“B-boyfriend…” Shiro almost drowns under the shower head. “Uh, well, I guess…”  
Keith is watching and listening far too earnestly for his poor heart to cope.  
“I… I guess… if you wanted to… you could shower with me. Just as a start. I could help you wash your hair. And maybe… you know, later down the track, when you and I have…”  
He's woefully underprepared for this. It's not fair to bring up the topic of sex for the first time just when he's relaxed and let his guard down and… wait…  
“ _Why_ is Pidge telling you to ask me this?” he asks, gripping onto the tap for dear life.

When he's met with silence, he glances over his shoulder, but Keith's gaze has trailed down again and Shiro feels his face reheat.

“ _Keith!_ ”

“Huh?” The gaze snaps up again and he shrugs. “Beats me. She just said it would be different from when we shared showers with the rest of the group.”

“Well yeah,” Shiro splutters, and okay, he _really_ needs to get out from under the running water. “Of course it going to be diff—”  
He realises he's losing track of his thoughts.  
“Jesus, _Pidge_! Keith, hand me my towel.”

Keith obeys without question, but he holds it out just a little too far out of reach and it forces Shiro to shuffle away from the wall and snatch it from his hands as quickly as possible.  
“Pidge shouldn't be so invested in this,” he grumbles, tucking the towel around his hips.  
“We can talk about this properly a little later, okay?

But Keith's eyes have dropped to his towel.

“Christ. Come on,” he mutters, herding him out.  
“I'll be with you in a second. I'm just going to get changed.”

_PIDGE_

And how convenient for her to disappear from Twitter _now_.

 _HE'S NOT NAIVE  
_ _HE'S AN ADULT_

 **_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _wow_

Shiro can hear him giggling on the other side of the divider as he pulls on his boxers. The penny drops.

_.... So, then..... I’m the one being played._

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _yeah_

Betrayal stings, and Shiro levels him with a Keith-tier pout when he steps around the divider. It only grows when Keith grins and his datapad pings again.

 **_k  
          _ ** _time for a comfort hug_

He opens his arms and Shiro is only so strong, feet carrying him over to flop onto his chest. It's sweet for a moment, but then the hand on his back slides lower, and Shiro makes a sound unbefitting a man of his stature when fingers dig in.

_You just squee zed my_

**_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _just testing_

Shiro jolts when he does it again, retaliating with a pinch to his sides that makes Keith laugh. Hearing him like this though… having him like this, Shiro will gladly endure his teasing.

 **_k  
          _ ** _6+ years of growing up and watching over one man can do that to you_

Shiro glances up to him in surprise, but Keith keeps his eyes resolutely on his device, and he knows that means he'll find it easier to type than talk.

_That long........._

_**k** replying to @tshiro01_  
_it’s ok  
           we have the rest of our lives to make it up_

Shiro smiles, turning his face to kiss over his heart.

_That’s something I’d be happy to do._

He hears his pulse stammer under his ear.

 _ **k** replying to @tshiro01_  
           _o oh_ _  
_   _really_

There's no question about it.

_I can’t imagine being anywhere else. So long as you’ll have me._

The hand on his back pauses.

 **_k  
_ ** _hereallylovesme_

And he knows there's a weight behind his reply, but he doesn't let it stop him.

_I do._

When he looks up, Keith's eyes are on his, expression indiscernible for a moment before he smiles, soft and content and his.

“I'm going to go to bed,” Shiro says quietly, as if concerned about disturbing the atmosphere of the room.  
“Another big day tomorrow and we both need to make sure we don't wind up in the hospital. Again.”

“I guess that's reasonable,” Keith pouts.

Shiro stands, but ducks back down to kiss away the expression.  
“Good night, Sunshine.”

Keith pulls him down for just one more.  
“Good night…”

When he pulls back the covers, he sees a tweet at the top of his feed before the datapad is set aside.

 **_k  
_ ** _good night kisses are nice_

Shiro smiles, typing out one last reply.

_You can have them every night. Get some rest soon. Don’t stay up too late._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished writing this at 3.44am, decided I would sleep before I published, so apologies for the later chapter (although my previous work ethic was very much unsustainable!).
> 
> Catch me on [tumblr](https://copilotsheith.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/copilotsheith)!


	5. Chapter 5: Lights out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 25: Shiro says FUCK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special mention to [Dawn (applepieken)](https://twitter.com/applepieken) for drawing a [certain scene](https://twitter.com/applepieken/status/1066878286561665024) that I decided had been decreed canon law.  
> obama.gif

Being good at something, and finding joy in it are not necessarily mutually inclusive. At least, not when it comes to diplomacy. Shiro wonders if it's a symptom of something a little darker in him that he would feel more comfortable in a battlefield than in a boardroom. But such is his life now, after Zarkon, after Haggar, after Atlas. It's not that he wishes to complain, but sometimes it feels less like peace, and more like one war swapped for another.

Being good at diplomacy doesn't mean it's easy either. Freeing a universe from the Empire doesn't come with the automatic cooperation and gratitude one might expect. Views still clash, rigid plans refuse to coincide and people still don't get along. It's worse than pulling teeth. Shiro knows he must be at the end of his rope when he starts agreeing with - god - _Slav_ of all people. Without Krolia and Allura beside him representing Blade and Altean interests, Shiro is sure he would have found the first pod to jettison himself into deep space hours ago.

_Thank you. For. Being here. At this conference._

Krolia doesn't so much as blink away from where Slav is still arguing with the Unilu representative.

 **_Krolia_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _You're welcome but Shiro the table is cracking you need to let go of it._

With alarm, Shiro releases the tabletop, seeing the fissures in the glass forming under his metal thumb.

_Oh_

Krolia catches his eye for a moment with a smile, small and brief, before her attention returns back to the, uh… diplomacy in action.

 **_Krolia_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _You're doing great._

It spreads something warm and bashful through him - her approval always does - but it's not enough to chase away the sourness that lingers on the back of his tongue. It's petty, he knows, why he's so worked up today. It has far less to do with the conversation at the table and more with lingering stares and words aimed at a certain Leader of Voltron, who is attracting far more attention than Shiro could ever be comfortable with.

Shiro’s hardly a fool. Biases or not, Keith is the most beautiful creature aboard the Alliance station, no matter how unaware of that he himself might be. But Shiro still expects a level of decorum from the others aboard. The station is a place of work, not a dating service. It just seems that one particular individual never received the memo.

Shiro’s introduction to the representative from Nalquod had been… unsavoury. At least, that was the politest word he could put to it after he walked into the assembly room and first laid eyes on him. His first priority, as always, had been to locate Keith. So when he found him pinned down in the corner (slight exaggeration maybe, but only by the smallest margin) looking mildly annoyed, Shiro had heard sirens. The sound of booming laughter from his hulking companion and a large hand laying on his shoulder had him seeing red.

No one was allowed to touch Keith like that. No one but him.

Shiro had seen the slight hunch of Keith's shoulders and the tight set of his lips, even from across the room. He was clearly uncomfortable, but the Nalquodian seemed to fail to pick that up, angling his body close and leaning down to talk closer in Keith's ear. Maybe it had been irrational, Shiro had thought later, to march straight over to kiss Keith in front of everyone. While Keith's dazed look had almost been worth it, it hadn't exactly achieved his goal of conveying a less than subtle “back off” message. Instead, the Nalquodian had flashed his teeth in a grin that made Shiro's blood boil.

“At least I know now who I need to fight for the beauty's hand.”

The tone may have been light, but it had still been enough to make Shiro grit his teeth to avoid making a scene. Keith had frowned the way he always did when he didn't fully understand the situation around him. His social graces might have been leaps and bounds from where they used to be, but there were still some cues he just didn't get. Perhaps it was better that way though.

“Come on,” he had said quietly to Keith, leading him away with an arm around his waist.

Allura nudges his foot gently under the table, just in time to hear the Unilu representative defer to him. With all the tranquility he doesn't actually possess, Shiro offers his view on the matter, and it seems to be the right answer, with both Slav and the Unilun nodding in agreement. Shiro fights the urge to heave a sigh of relief. Instead, he flashes a grateful look the Princess' way.

“Well then,” Allura announces, clapping her hands together, “if that's all for Zone Everall 71, then I think we should join the rest of the conference for the final debrief. We've kept them waiting long enough.”

Out of the pot and into the frying pan. Shiro wonders if it would be undiplomatic to groan. There is a silver lining though: Keith will be there. Shiro doesn't care if he looks overly eager as he gathers up his data pad and tucks in his chair under the table.

The uplift in his mood lasts approximately three seconds in the hallway before passing words ruin it all.

“Palyr is at is again.”

The Nalquodian. Shiro had been sure to do his research after yesterday. The mere mention of him is enough to set his nerves back on edge.

“Every sentient creature on the entire station knows the two Earthling leaders are bonded,” the Davdabhau says to her companion. “And telling the Black Paladin his armour would look good on his bedroom floor? Palyr may be large, but he is twice as stupid.”

Shiro doesn't realise he has stopped still until a hand squeezes at his shoulder. Krolia looks furious in a quiet way that would be terrifying if Shiro didn't feel equally as murderous.

“I think we should make haste,” she says calmly, just in time for Allura to join them with a confused expression.

Shiro forces himself to uncurl his fists, swallowing to make his throat come unstuck.  
“I agree,” he says through gritted teeth.

It's not that Keith can’t protect himself. And Shiro holds no fear for their fledgeling relationship at the hands of Palyr. But Keith shouldn't have to endure this kind of vile talk. He shouldn't be the subject of gossip, hearsay and whispers. Subtlety clearly hadn't been enough. Shiro would have to take a more blunt approach to put a stop to this.

When they enter the conference room, Krolia's snarl tells him all he needs to know before he even sees it. Palyr is crowding Keith in the corner again, away from the rest of the Paladins. A glance at the others tells him they're just as aware of the situation, watching warily from where they're stuck making nice with the other representatives. Hunk mouths a silent apology while Lance wrinkles his nose. Shiro just shakes his head. At least they're here. He couldn't ask for much more. He turns his attention back to the situation in the corner. He can't hear the conversation, but judging by the twitch of Keith's brow, it can't be anything good. In spite of that, he remains impassive, and Shiro can't help a little surge of pride. If Keith can keep his cool, then so can he.  
“I'll handle this,” he murmurs to Krolia, brushing past gently.

Keith looks terribly relieved when he finally sees him, straightening from where he has slumped against the wall and unfolding his arms.  
“Shiro…”  
There's such a softness in his voice that it melts away his anger in an instant. But Keith steps forward to initiate a kiss this time, and Shiro wraps a protective arm around his back, carefully pulling him out of Palyr’s reach.

“Missed you, Sunshine,” he tells him quietly, because it's true. He presses a kiss to his forehead. “Why don't you take a seat with your Mom? I'll join you in just a tick.”  
Keith hums an affirmative, but lingers to capture his lips again. Shiro makes no effort to dissuade him, or cut it short, locking eyes with Palyr over his head. The Nalquodian simply watches with a pleasant enough smile and Shiro has to fight back a glare so Keith won't see it when he pulls away.

“I'll save you a spot,” Keith says, squeezing his hand once before departing.

Shiro doesn't hold back the dark expression then, holding Palyr under a steel stare.  
“Ambassador Palyr,” he addresses coldly.

The reply he receives is all sugar and falsities.  
“Altas Captain,” the Nalquodian smiles, the same way with too much teeth like yesterday. “It's a pleasure to see you again.”

“I'll cut straight to the matter,” Shiro interrupts, before he can attempt any more pleasantries. “What King Blaytz did for this universe as the original Blue Paladin will always be remembered as heroic and kind, and the suffering your people endured after the destruction of Nalquod means they will always be welcome at the table of the Alliance. However what is _not_ welcome are your crude advances toward Keith. He might not give your words a second thought, but others hear too. Your behaviour has been highly inappropriate and will not be tolerated.”

“Oh?”  
Palyr takes a step closer, forcing Shiro to look up to where he stands a full head higher. It's an intimidation tactic, but Shiro won't falter. The attempt is almost laughable after everything he's been through over the years during the war.  
“Do Earthlings not believe in sharing?” Palyr asks with a laugh and a cocked eyebrow.  
“It doesn't have to exclude you,” he says, brushing imagined dust off of Shiro's lapels. “Surely you see the fun in a little… cooperative work between leaders.”

Shiro grits his teeth, remembering why he's here. Diplomats do not snap at other diplomats. He needs to stay calm, just like Keith. He does firmly push the hand from his jacket though, standing his ground.  
“I think you know my answer, Ambassador.”  
He turns to make his way back to the table, but a large hand on his shoulder stops him dead, and warm breath whispers in his ear.

"Shame. If that's the case..."  
It's not masked this time: it's a threat.  
“Can I have a turn with Keith after you're done?”

His prosthetic tightens on his right, but he comes swinging with his left when he spins around, knuckles crunching when they connect with a hard jaw, the shock jarring up to his wrist. It hurts - Nalquodian bones are not fragile apparently - but seeing Palyr go down like a tonne of bricks chases any pain away momentarily. Or maybe it's just the adrenaline. Either way, seeing the ambassador fall at his feet is a sick kind of satisfaction. He's out cold.

“Shiro!”

Oh _shit_ — he's out cold. As a representative for the Garrison - for _Earth_ , Shiro just knocked out the ambassador for Nalquod. In front of the entire Alliance. So much for diplomacy. Familiar hands take hold of him as he stares down at the mess he's made.

“Shiro, are you okay?”

And Shiro almost laughs, because there's a man on the floor and Keith is more concerned about _his_ well being instead.  
“Yeah Sunshine, I'm just—” He hisses when he tries to open his fist. Okay, revision: he might have done something to his wrist. Unsurprising really, he thinks, given how thick headed Palyr had been.

“Let me see,” Keith insists, even as others rush to attend to Palyr. His knuckles are bleeding, he knows that much, but when Keith presses cautious fingers into his carpals, Shiro snatches the limb back with gritted teeth.  
“We're going to the infirmary,” Keith decides, and Shiro doesn't even fight as he leads him away, wanting to get as far away from the commotion as possible.

It's a vacuum of sound in the hallway when they make their getaway, and it gives Shiro a second for his brain to catch up properly.

“I definitely shouldn't have done that.”

Keith doesn't provide him assurance either way.  
“Down here,” he says, taking hold of his prosthetic, as if Shiro couldn't just stand still while he walked away. It makes his heart swell with fondness. He takes a couple of quick strides to draw level with with him again.

“You're not going to ask me why I hit him?”

Keith shrugs.  
“If you think I should know, you'll tell me.”

Shiro almost gives in to the overwhelming urge to scoop him up and kiss him until he's breathless. Instead, metal fingers curl around ones made of flesh and calluses and he holds tight until they reach medical.

Keith stays with him as the nurse prods and pokes at his hand, tapping away at his datapad. There is a brief moment of activity beyond the curtains that announces Palyr’s arrival, and Shiro hears words like “fractured jaw” and “unconscious but stable.” He's surprised that when he searches for remorse, he comes up empty, but he doesn't bother to dwell. He's still angry. Still would do it again in a heartbeat.

“Are they talking about it online?” Shiro asks with dread as the nurse bandages his wrist up firmly. Just a sprain, she says. Nothing more.

Keith throws him a little smile, and he already knows the answer.  
“Lotta people asking if you could do them the favour of punching them in the face too.”

“Jesus, Keith.”

“Made you stop scowling at least.”

And Shiro feels a wave of guilt, forcing himself to relax.  
“Sorry.”

Keith pushes off against the doorframe when the nurse presses anti-inflammatories into his hands, relaying instructions to him. It makes Shiro feel a bit like a kid, but he supposes Keith _is_ the more responsible one in the room right now. When she leaves, Keith moves to stand in front of him, handing back his data pad. Shiro presses his face into front of his jacket, inhaling slow as gentle fingers run through his hair.

“Wanna skip out on the rest of the evening, Starlight?” Keith asks softly.

He knows him too well, but the pet name makes Shiro suddenly glad his face is buried against Keith's middle to hide his blush as he nods.

“Only if you can too,” he amends, though he knows they shouldn't. But it's already evening, and he's tired, and he's not ready to face the music for his actions just yet. He can hear Palyr groaning in the other room, and Shiro thinks he must be coming to again. He doesn't want to be here for that. Keith glances up too, then tugs at his elbow gently.

“I've got you on my team. _No one_ is going to cross me.”

Shiro groans a pained laugh in spite of himself. It doesn't completely dispel the sizzle just under his skin, but it does enough to clear his head just a little as they leave the infirmary and take the quickest path back to their shared quarters. With a sigh, he opens the app on his datapad, knowing he should speak before silence mutates into falsehood and fiction.

_Makes me angry to know people like that exist, no matter what corner of the universe you’re in._

He doesn't bother to scroll through the rest of his feed just yet.

 _Talking about people like they’re objects...._ _  
_ _Fuck you._

Keith chokes beside him. Oh fuck, diplom— well, too late anyway.

_Lost my cool for a moment there. But I don’t regret what I did._

**_Pidge  
          _ ** _SHIRO SAID FUCK_

 **_kth  
          _ ** _SHIRO SAID FUCK_

 **_Lance  
          _ ** _SHIRO SAID FUCK_

 **_Allura  
          _ ** _SHIRO SAID_

 **_Lance_ ** _replying to @allura_06  
           _ _FUCK_

 **_kth_ ** _replying to @allura_06  
           _ _FUCK_

 **_Allura  
          _ ** ****_FUCK_

The replies are already pouring in fast. They've been waiting for his story, he realises, and he lets Keith guide him through the door as he selects a few questions to answer.

 **_anj_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _are you feeling better now, cap?_

_Trying not to think about it too much._

**_bast_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _you gonna tell us what happened? we totally understand if you can't_

Shiro pauses at this one, glancing to where Keith has only managed to remove one arm out of the sleeve of his jacket, still gleefully tweeting about his little language slip up.

“Sunshine?” and Keith stops immediately to look up to him. Shiro pauses with a fond smile to help him out of the rest of his jacket as best he can with a busted wrist. “Do you know why I punched Ambassador Palyr?” he asks quietly.

Keith grimaces.  
“I have… a pretty good theory,” he replies honestly.

Shiro can't even muster a reassuring smile for that. He's still livid at the thought of anyone treating Keith with even a fraction less than the immense respect he deserves.  
“Come sit down with me.”

Keith ends up leading the way once they toe off their boots, settling in tight by his side on the couch.  
“I thought he was just trying to be a bit suffocatingly friendly at first,” he starts for them, “but then the things he was saying became a little more… obvious. You surprised me yesterday, but it made a lot more sense today, I guess.”

“He said some pretty crude things to you Keith,” Shiro says softly. “About you… It wasn't right. I'm sorry you had to deal with it.”

Keith shrugs, picking at the hem of his undershirt.  
“I guess… I understand what the girls mean a little more when they say they feel objectified by someone. It's… It's not nice. It makes you feel a bit cheap. Like my achievements to get here mean nothing.”

Shiro presses a kiss to his temple.  
“You are so much more than a pretty face, Keith,” he assures. “And if anyone ever dares to lay a finger on you like that or says anything disgusting to you ever again, I will put them in the fucking ground, okay?”

“Heh, two ‘fucks’ in one day and it's not even Christmas yet.”  
Shiro tries not to flush at that as Keith looks up to him with mirth dancing in his eyes.  
“I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Yes,” Shiro says seriously. “But I'm still here to support you anyway.”

The smile grows softer, and Keith leans forward to kiss him softly.  
“I know. Thank you.”  
And again.  
“Stay here. I'll get us something to eat. Put some ice on your wrist.

“Yessir.”

“Dork,” Keith smiles, kissing him one last time before he pushes himself off the couch. Shiro returns back to his answer when the door clicks behind him, taking his time to carefully type it out.

 _One of the dignitaries that came to the conference this week showed behaviors that the alliance does not condone._ _  
_ _He provoked me, and I stood my ground until the very end. That’s all I’m willing to say officially. Thank you for your concern._

He's not sure if he wants to keep scrolling. Today, Twitter doesn't hold any sense of catharsis. Reflecting on what transpired in the boardroom only stokes the embers of his anger. But when he goes to close his app, a notification from Keith stops him short.

 **_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
__he did tell you to go ahead and punch him before so_

Not entirely true, but Palyr had joked about fighting him yesterday. And, well, perhaps he was all bark where Shiro was a lot more bite. He's starting to feel his anger boil down to worry though, and suddenly he's not so sure sending Keith out on his own was such a good idea.

_Are you okay?_

_**kth** replying to @tshiro01_  
_says the guy who knocked someone out with his bare hand_  
_I’m fine_

His wrist aches as if on cue, and Shiro heaves himself off of the couch to wrap icecubes in a tea towel to tie around his wrist. Perhaps not the most medically recommended treatment, but it keeps his right free to continue typing when he places the datapad down on the benchtop.

 _That did happen. Honestly didn’t expect him to go down like that._ _  
_ _I’m glad you’re okay. He was getting too close for personal comfort— and it didn’t look like a good conversation._

Has it always been this hard to type with this hand? Shiro wonders how Sam would react if he asked for more nimble fingers for the sole purpose of social media efficiency.

 _ **kth** replying to @tshiro01_  
_he was_  
_but I’m good_  
_should’ve used your other hand though_

Shiro winces with a laugh. God forbid. He would have done a lot more than just crack Pelyr's jaw.

 _Funny you should mention that. I wasn’t thinking too much when I went for it, but I guess my conscience thought, “That wouldn’t be very fair.”_ _  
_ _Also really wanted to feel it on my bare hand._

Is that a little too much? A little too violent? It's the true either way. In retrospect, using his left had a lot less to do with fairness and a lot more to do with delivering retribution with a personal touch. He hopes that doesn't upset Keith.

 **_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _I love you_

His heart squeezes. Apparently not.

_I love you, too._

He's replying to Matt and Krolia when Keith returns with an overflowing cafeteria tray. Shiro double takes when he sets it down between them.  
“You didn't seriously walk out of the mess hall with that,” he deadpans. “Didn't anyone try to stop you?”

Keith shrugs.  
“I told them your other hand works perfectly fine still.”  
He laughs when Shiro splutters, and it's only then that he realises he's just teasing him again.  
“I had the Paladins on hand to keep everyone distracted,” he provides as a real explanation.

“Oh.”  
He watches as Keith scoops up a forkful of chilli, wondering if he remembered to get another, when Keith offers it to him. Shiro baulks with a blush.  
“I, um… I can feed myself...”

Keith tries to level him with a doubtful look, but it suffers when he struggles to mask a grin.  
“This is far too delicate work for your right hand and your left is on rest until further notice.”

Shiro just stares in disbelief.

“Do I have to make aeroplane noises?”

The further risk to his dignity is motivation enough, and so, heated cheeks and all, he opens up to take his assigned mouthful.

“Good boy,” Keith teases as he scoops up another serving for himself.

“Keith—”

“Don't talk with your mouth full,” he says, muffled around his fork, and Shiro wonders if it's possible to sprain his eyes as well from rolling them too hard. It's nice though, trading bites like this, letting Keith feed them both until the tray is clear.

“I'll take it back,” Shiro offers when Keith straightens, but he just receives a shake of his head and a quick kiss.

“I've got it, he assures. “Relax. I won't be long, okay?”

Shiro lets out a quiet sigh. It's hard to insist when he really has no desire to see anyone, present company excluded.  
“Just… message me if you need anything. Or if you happen to run into that idiot. I'll be there in an instant.”

He finds his way back to the couch once he's gone, and Shiro knows he shouldn't but he can't help but stew in his anger again without a suitable distraction. It's not that Keith _belongs_ to him or anything - he will always be his own person and Shiro would never ask for anything else - but he would like to think that everyone around them would respect what they shared together. He shouldn't have to put this sacred gift on display under bright lights for others to see it for what it is. They should understand well enough while he and Keith get to maintain their privacy. It's the least Keith deserves. The least he deserves.

Shiro knows a little of his anger stems from his own insecurities. Fear, perhaps is more apt. Keith deserves the universe and Shiro will always try to deliver, but he knows he has his shortcomings. He wouldn't call himself broken, but some of his pieces are a little disjointed, a little ill-fitting. And he has a long history of being bad at love, but he thinks with Keith he might be getting better. In the end, he know he's not perfect, but that's okay, because Keith accepts him like this - flaws and all.

 ****__**kth**  
           _hey @tshiro01_ _  
_ _shower time_

Shiro smiles at the screen.

_Go shower, then._

**_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _how are you going to wash with no arm_

Not this again...

_I can still use my other arm._

_**kth** replying to @tshiro01_  
_you always complain about it not being good with your hair_  
_I can do it_

 _ **kth** replying to @tshiro01 and @002_kth_  
_I can fill the bath tub for you_  
_and wash your hair_

Shiro can't deny the idea isn't tempting, especially after today.

_You know what? Yeah, I’d love that. That sounds nice._

**_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _OK_

He only has to wait another minute before the door opens again, and Keith sends him off to grab pyjamas and towels with hands in his pockets. His datapad lights up on the bed while he hears the water running in the bathroom.

 ****__**kth**  
           _shiro_ _  
_ _I got one from lance for you_

He decides to take the bait, rather than call out.

_A what?_

The thread refreshes a moment later with a photo of their bath, foaming colours fizzing and swirling in the water.

 **_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _cause you’re starlight_

Shiro rushes a reply as he gathers up his bundle.

_I love you._

He finds Keith kneeling beside the tub, fingers dipped into the water's surface. The room is already far warmer than the bedroom, and delicate sandalwood and lavender linger in the air. Keith glances up at his arrival and smiles. It's probably the most inviting thing he's ever seen in his life.

“C'mere,” he says softly, and Shiro feet obey without hesitation. He attempts to lean down to kiss him, but Keith stops him short by pulling his undershirt over his head. He laughs when Shiro grumbles his dissent but doesn't stop him when he leans down again once he's free.

“Joining me?” Shiro asks as he toys with the hem of Keith's own shirt, trying not to sound too hopeful.

He sees Keith go shy under the question, and he prepares himself to take it back, but then violet eyes flick up and he gives a little silent nod. Keith has to help him in the end - his wrist is becoming far more ginger than he expected - but Shiro can't help but marvel as he traces over the bumps of ribs under his fingers. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't chase away the thought that crosses his mind loud and clear.

_“Mine…”_

Keith's fingers tremble a little as they work on the buckle of Shiro's belt, and Shiro knows it has less to do with seeing each other naked (communal showers are not a new concept in any kind of military setting, after all) and a lot more to do with the intimacy of the moment. Being allowed to touch, to take his time, is something Keith is still learning. He's getting there slowly. Shiro doesn't want to rush him.

“Hey,” he says softly when Keith bites his lip. “Don't feel like you have to do anything if you feel uncomfortable. If you want to leave… if you want to enjoy this bath alone, then that's fine. Just say the word.”

Keith blinks up to him, all wide eyed surprise, but then his expression softens and Shiro sees him relax.  
“If you're happy, I'm happy,” he smiles. Shiro believes him. “I want to do this for you.”

It warms his chest like a double shot of nunvil.  
“Has anyone ever told you how kind you are?” And it's reward enough to see the pink flush colour his cheeks before him. “How compassionate and selfless and—”

“Okay, enough of that,” Keith practically squeaks, pink developing more into a bright red.

Shiro smiles, kissing the corner of his mouth.  
“I love you.”

Keith buys himself a second by pulling his belt free from the loops, then kisses him back properly.  
“I love you too.”

Keith herds him into the water once he's undressed, and Shiro sighs in relief as he sinks down, warmth easing into the tension from two days of conference and winding back the coil of stress that comes from taking the podium for an entire planet. Keith makes short work of the rest of his clothing, wasting no time to climb in too.

“Make room for me,” he orders, nudging his shoulder to coax him into sitting forward.

“I'm going to fall asleep on you if you sit behind me,” Shiro warns, but Keith pays him no heed, quickly settling at his back with knees either side of Shiro's waist.

“Lean back,” he urges, more gently this time, immediately getting down to business and wetting his hair. Shiro can smell coconut when Keith pops open a cap behind him, and he barely manages to suppress a downright sinful moan when firm fingers press into his scalp to work his hair into a lather. Keith must realise what it does to him though, because he sounds positively smug when he asks, “good?”

“Defeating Zarkon was good. This is amazing.”

Keith lets out a loud laugh, clearly taken off guard, and it makes Shiro fall in love a little more.

“I wish I could do the same for you right now,” Shiro muses. The way Keith shifts behind him doesn't go unnoticed.

“Another day.”

Once his hair is rinsed of suds, Keith occupies himself by running a washcloth over as much of Shiro's skin as he dares. It serves less as an effort to clean him and more of a tactile exercise for the two of them, but Shiro feels no desire to stop him, even when the fingers on his left hand start to prune and the shimmer from the bath bomb sticks to his skin even when he tries to scrub it away. The water is tepid by the time Keith nudges Shiro from where he dozes against his chest and decides they should get out. Shiro whines his complaint, but the promise of a soft bed is enough to rouse him just enough to dry off, pull on his pyjama pants and stumble back to their mattress. Keith laughs somewhere behind him. He's only half conscious when fussy hands ease the blanket out from under him to cover him properly. The mattress dips beside him, and Shiro pulls the warm body closer, letting a soft hum of fond amusement pull him back down into sleep.

The room is dark when Shiro opens his eyes, so he rolls over with every intention of consorting with dreams again, but he meets nothing but cooling sheets and suddenly he's wide awake. It takes a moment for panic to make way for rational thought again, but eventually his survival instincts go quiet and he tells himself that Keith has probably just gotten up in the middle of the night.

He reaches for his datapad, and sure enough he can see Keith has been active in the last ten minutes.

 ****__**kth**  
           _didn’t think it’d be so fun to just_ _  
_ _do normal every day things_

Shiro calms and lays back down into the pillow.

_I like doing normal, every day things with you._

Keith's reply comes in an instant.

 **_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _didn’t you fall asleep_

_I woke up because it suddenly felt chilly at my side. Where’d you go, sunshine?_

_**kth** replying to @tshiro01_  
_went to grab you a bottle of pain relievers and an extra pillow_  
_just in case your hand starts hurting so you can prop it on something soft_

Shiro wonders how it's possible for him to be more hopelessly in love, but Keith seems set on pushing the boundaries of cardiac science, and his heart squeezes a little more.

_You’re sweet._

**_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _it’s the least I can do for you_

He smiles at the words for a moment, before typing out a reply.

_You'd make the best doting husband in this universe._

It's only after he hits send that he realises his grave error. Time moves in slow motion around him and suddenly he sits bolt upright to correct.

_BOYFRIEND_

Shit, shit, _delete_. Why is it so hard to use these stupid screens with this stupid hand?

 **DELETE  
** Do you want to delete this tweet?

                              **NO          YES**

“Yes! Yes, I want to delete! Just do it!”

Yelling at the screen doesn't appear to have much effect, but eventually a metal finger makes acceptable contact with the dialogue box and sends the tweet back into the void. Watching the words disappear doesn't bring immediate relief, and Shiro holds his breath as he watches the screen.

 **_kth_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_????? what_

Shiro dares to breathe again—

 _ **kth** replying to @tshiro01 and @002_kth_  
_what did you tweet_  
_I can’t see the reply before that for some reason_

— and types the first lame response he can think of.

 _Sorry, typo. I was trying to retype it before you responded._ _  
_ _Just said that you’re a really great boyfriend._

Keith apparently buys it.

 _**kth** replying to @tshiro01_  
_ok_  
_I’ve got 2 pillows and pills_  
_coming back to you_

_I’m waiting._

And even with a racing heart, he feels a little safer in the knowledge that Keith will be back in his arm again in just a few minutes. No unsavoury allies, broken jaws or aching limbs can shake that. The bond they share has been tempered by far harsher flames and has come out stronger every time. Shiro knows what he feels goes far deeper than a piece of paper or a ring, but he can't deny the pull he feels toward that end.

Maybe it's too soon to say things like that just yet, but one day, he thinks and smiles.

One day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get slower with every passing day. Blame Pokemon Let's Go. I just caught an Articuno with my first throw though, so who's the real winner? (No one because I didn't edit this and I'm really really sorry).
> 
> Catch me at [twitter](https://twitter.com.copilotsheith) or [tumblr](https://copilotsheith.tumblr.com) (if you've survived the great purge of 2k18).


	6. Chapter 6: Keith Shirogane Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 2: Lost and Found

_“Give ‘em all we got!”_

_“Enemy coming up on your five!”_

_“Engaging thrusters. Weapons systems locked.”_

_“SHIRO!!”_

* * *

The universe is peaceful, is his first thought. The ground beneath him is soft and warm, and the place he lies is quiet, but for a distant murmur of activity somewhere beyond. He remembers chaos, but not the details. This is far more pleasant.

Until he turns into himself. There's a terrible throb between his temples, and he feels his brow pinch in response. A little hitch of breath that doesn't come from him breaks the relative silence, and a quiet scramble by his side follows.

“I have something for that,” a sweet voice says. “If you're ready to wake up.”

Wake up? He had been content enough to simply float like this for a little while, but there's something about that voice. Something that takes hold of him and draws him back to the surface.

The world is limned in soft light that blurs all its edges when he opens his eyes. White, he thinks. There's a lot of white here. It's unnatural. Maybe he's found the afterlife. It would explain the tranquil void in his mind. The warmth and the quiet. But not the pain.

The first thing to come in focus is the metal appendage by his side, and after a moment of confused contemplation, he surges up, wincing at the pain that shoots through his wrist on his left, still flesh.

“What happened to my arm?!”

“Easy,” the sweet voice says to him. “You're okay. You're safe.”

He whips his head up to the source and… yes, he's definitely in heaven. The man— the _angel_ before him is far too ethereal for the humble Earth. He presses pills into his hand, paying no heed to how his mouth pops open as he stares.

“What do you remember?”

He searches, and then frowns, coming up empty. He downs the pills then shakes his head with an apologetic smile.

“The doctor said you might struggle for a little while. I honestly think you're better off not knowing.”

Hospital then. That makes a little more sense. He's suddenly glad he didn't start sprouting questions about the afterlife. That would have been terribly embarrassing. Besides, he has a far more pressing question. 

“Who are you?”

He hears the wonder and awe in his voice, but it must come out wrong, because the angel looks stricken. He sees his grip tighten on the bed railing, and those beautiful eyes dart away before he can decide if they're blue or violet.

“Tell me your name.”

“I asked first.”

And the angel blushes.  
“Please… it's important.”

There’s an edge of anguish there, so he pauses a moment, searching.  
“Takashi Shirogane,” he finally says.  
But that doesn't seem quite right.  
“You can call me Shiro.”  
Better.  
“Now, you.” 

The angel swallows, and almost seems like he's in pain.  
“Keith,” he says so softly. “My name is Keith.”

“Keith…” Shiro repeats, wonderstruck. “Wow…”   
He wants to say it again when his cheeks colour, but Keith finds his tongue first.

“Do you know where you are?”

Shiro glances around.   
“Hospital?” he offers. He thinks that much is obvious, but Keith grimaces.

“Do you remember what happened to you last?”

Shiro tries to cast his mind back, but comes up disturbingly blank.   
“Um…”

Keith's voice becomes increasingly desperate.  
“Do you remember who you are?”

“Shi—"

“I mean more than your name.”

Shiro goes stock still. Who is he? What is he other than a name? It's a distressing thought.  
“I… I don't know. I can't remember. I'm sorry. I…”

“No, no,” Keith rushes, looking more upset than ever. “Don't apologise, don't… It's not your fault. I didn't mean…”

They're interrupted by a sound of delight at the door, and Shiro looks up to see the most peculiar man he's ever laid eyes on in his life.

“You're finally up, number one!” he cries, and the flourish of his rather impressive orange moustache would be terribly distracting if not for—

“Keith,” he says, stunned, “am I seeing things? Why is there an elf in my doorway?”

He doesn't get an explanation, but Keith bolts, herding the flabbergasted intruder out by the elbow.  
“I'll be right back,” he assures in a rush, closing the door behind him.

Shiro blinks, staring at where they have disappeared for a moment. The sudden isolation gives him a moment to assess. He's Shiro, he's…

He…

But there's nothing. That's where he starts and ends.

Shiro.

Just Shiro.

... But maybe Keith is part of that too.

Shiro wishes he could remember him. It seems criminal that he would ever forget a lovely face like that. But it's not entirely forgotten, he thinks. Some little part of him whispers that there's something familiar there. He just can't remember quite what.

The solitude also gives him a chance to take stock of himself. His head still hurts, in spite of the pills, and his left wrist aches whenever he twists it the wrong way. He's trying not to think about his right. Every time he glances down and sees nothing, it makes him want to be sick. He still doesn't understand the glow coming from what remains of his shoulder or the large metal glove that lies on the table beside him. In spite of his best efforts, his mind betrays him. All he can think is that his arm is gone, gone, gone, gone...

The sound of the door opening alleviates his panic for a moment, and the sight of Keith returning settles the fears that threaten to creep in. Whatever look he wears makes Keith pause by the door and blush again. Shiro likes when he blushes.

“Sorry about that,” he says softly.   
“How are you doing?”

“Better now you're back,” Shiro replies earnestly, and it makes Keith stumble on his path back to his bedside.   
“It's just…” he tries resolutely not to look, “my arm…”

“Oh, Shiro…”   
Keith's eyes go soft and he rushes those last few steps.   
“It's okay,” he says softly, resting a hand on the metal fingers beside the bed. It's a shock when Shiro registers the sensation, and his fingers squeeze around him instinctively. Keith glances down in surprise.   
"Well, at least you remember how to use it.”

“Oh. That's… that's my hand.”

“It happened a long time ago,” Keith says, which isn't terribly reassuring, but Shiro knows he means it to be, so he tries to relax. The fingers feel large and clumsy, and Keith's hand looks terribly delicate against his palm. But his skin feels so warm, and Shiro wonders if he'd feel the same wonderful static if he held on with his left hand too.   
“But you're okay now. I promise.”

Shiro believes him wholeheartedly.   
“Were you there?” he asks, eyes travelling up to land on his face. Something troubled flitters there and Keith avoids his gaze.

“Not the first time,” he says cryptically. It gives Shiro half a mind to ask how many times someone can lose an arm.

“Well, I must have been very frightened that time without you.”

Keith bites his lip, and it draws his gaze down for a moment. Is Shiro the type to kiss strangers? He sincerely hopes not, but he's fairly certain either way that he's never wanted to kiss a stranger more in his life. He allows himself a moment to drink in his features, from the strong cut of his jaw, over the long scar across his cheek that takes nothing away from his beauty (though Shiro would like to have a serious talk with whomever is responsible for hurting Keith like that), to the strong brow and crystal gleam of his eyes. Violet, he decides. They're the most wonderful shade of elysian violet he's ever seen.

Keith's gaze finally flicks up to meet his, and he blushes in his pretty way again.  
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he mumbles.

Shiro doesn't know what kind of man he is, but he decides he wants to be an honest one.  
“Because you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen.”

Keith manages to go redder somehow, and pries his hand away, much to Shiro's disappointment.   
“Don’t… don’t say that.”

“It's true!” Shiro insists. “I thought you were an angel when I woke up. I've never met anyone as lovely as you.”

“That you remember,” Keith says dryly.

But Shiro shakes his head.  
“Don't need to. I can say without a doubt that there’s no one in the entire—"

“Shut up,” Keith interrupts, and Shiro wonders if he has gone too far before he tacks on a soft, “please.”

He goes obediently silent though, watching as Keith moves to the bedside chair and sits down with a heavy sigh, pulling a small device out of his pocket. He begins tapping away, and so Shiro contents himself by simply taking him in again. What must they be to each other, for Keith to sit with him until he woke and still commit himself to the boredom of a hospital room thereafter? He wants to ask, but he's also terrified of scaring him off. Having no memories when he reaches for them should worry him more, but with Keith here, he feels safe, feels reassured.

Keith glances up over the device to check on him, and he blushes furiously again, holding the device up higher as if it will hide his face. It's adorable, and Shiro decides then and there that he's smitten. That if he and Keith don't share a past, then he'd rather it stay forgotten. He glances up a few more times, and it's blush, hide and repeat until Keith looks ready to combust, and he jumps to his feet to announce loudly, “thirsting water— getting thirst— I mean, _getting_ _water_ ,” before dashing for the door.

Shiro is left blinking in his wake, and he wonders if perhaps he's behaving a little out of character. He hates the thought that maybe he's making Keith feel uncomfortable. There's little time to stew on it though, because a knock comes from his doorframe, and a beautiful woman in a pink military jacket smiles to him.

“Hello Shiro. I hear you might not remember me, but I'm Allura. May I join you for a moment?”

“I, uh… I don't see why not.”

They must be friends, because Allura sits herself down on the edge of his bed and covers his hand with the familiarity of someone who knows him.  
“How are you feeling?” she asks gently. Shiro finds himself at ease right away.

“Sore, tired… fuzzy. But okay.”   
Involuntarily, he finds his gaze locking onto the pointed ears that peak out beneath her platinum hair. She gives a quiet laugh that's like music and tucks the strands behind one to make it more prominent.   
“Not an elf,” she tells him. “Altean.”

“Altean?”

“Mm. My home is gone now, but I come from a planet many many light years from here.”

Shiro quite viscerally feels his mind explode.   
“Woah…”

Allura laughs again.   
“Yes. Very _woah_.”

Shiro smiles with her, but doesn't know if he should ask her more, or if she expects anything.  
“Keith just went to get some water,” he offers as an explanation, but Allura gives a conspiratorial wink.

“Oh, I know. That's why I'm here actually. He left me in charge of you for a little while.”

“Ah.”   
It's a little sweet that he would ensure Shiro wasn't left on his own for too long. It makes him worry though. How long could water possibly take?   
“When will he be coming back?”

Allura looks like she's trying to hold in her mirth at the question.   
“Soon,” she soothes. “But I promise I'm not terrible company.”

Shiro asks her a little more about Altea and learns little bits and pieces about space beyond the Milky Way and about the Coalition based on Earth (“It's best you remember most of this on your own, Shiro.”). The mustachioed man has a name: Coran. He too is in fact not an elf either, and Shiro makes a mental note to apologise later.

They're joined by a younger woman in green - and wow, these uniforms are colourful - who introduces herself as Pidge. And when Shiro claims she's the first face that feels vaguely familiar to him, she busies herself by cleaning her comically round glasses, but he doesn't miss the way she swipes at her eyes too. He tries not to ask about Keith as the minutes tick by, but he slips up once or twice much to the girls’ amusement, until Pidge bids a farewell to catch up with another friend in the hospital. Allura hangs back a moment longer to pull a small device from her pocket, much like the one Keith had held earlier.  
“This is for you,” she says, placing it in his left hand.   
“There's an app on here,” she explains, leaning into his space to tap on a screen and open up a screen that shows his name and a long series of text posts.   
“You can write your thoughts here to share with us. And if you need anything, just type it here and we'll be able to see. Make sense?”

He taps on the little quill in the bottom right corner, blinking as the screen changes.

 **X** __  
_**What's happening?** _

“Seems simple enough,” he says with a shrug. “What should I write?”

“Whatever comes to mind. Whatever you want to share.”   
She offers him a warm smile.   
“I hope you're feeling more like yourself soon, Shiro.”

He stares at the screen after she's gone, trying to decipher whether he truly wants to tap personal messages into the device that he doesn't fully understand. In the end, boredom - and the fact he wouldn't know where to start looking for Keith - wins out.

     _She said I could use this page to record my thoughts while I recover._

He decides he feels restless, and so he gets up. But the arm… thing.... follows him with a delay and it throws him all out of whack. The spike in blood pressure from being upright makes the hammering in his skull all the more prevalent and his muscles protest the movement. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

_My head hurts and my whole body aches. And this arm is.... I keep feeling like I should be toppling over._

He pauses, and then taps the quill again.

_But the pretty guy with the cheek scar said I’ll be okay. I can’t help but believe everything he says._

He accidentally taps something, and suddenly he can see there are a flurry of replies from people he doesn't know beneath his message. He hits the back button in a fluster to find the blue button again.

_Oh..... this is a public chat?_

_How do I respond?_

There's a couple of helpful pointers, and Shiro thinks he can see the symbols the other users show him, but he decides he'll get the hang of it eventually.

_I’m not familiar with anyone right now, but I hope I’m able to be soon enough._

It's an apology. There's a couple of familiar names - Coran and Pidge specifically - but the rest are all strangers. He glances up when he hears the door handle turn, and he feels his heart give an involuntary thud.

_Oh, he’s back._

And Shiro knows he must look a little dopey, standing still and just smiling at him, but Keith already looks flustered before he even meets his eyes.

“What are you doing up?” he panics, practically tossing his water bottles on the table to rush over, take his arms and guide him back to his bed.

“Just waiting for you,” Shiro replies, sitting at his direction. “I was worried you might not come back.”

Keith looks horrified for a brief second, swallowing thickly.  
“Shiro, I… I'd never leave you,” he whispers. “I'll always be there for you.”

It isn't fair that can't just kiss him.   
“I believe you,” he says softly instead.

Keith almost seems to shrink into himself, and hands him one of the bottles of water before hurrying back to his seat a little further away. Shiro is just a bit disappointed when he pulls up his datapad right away, but he's grateful for the company regardless, and opens up his own device.

_He’s really pretty. Wow._

He glances up when he thinks he hears a strangled sound from Keith direction, but his face is impassive as he taps away, so Shiro thinks maybe he misheard. On his own screen, there's already a rush of likes and replies in the affirmative. It confirms what he already knows: Keith is unanimously the most attractive person in the universe. Except then he sees one dissenter.

 ** _peith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_not really_

Shiro feels it crawl under his skin immediately. He hits the speech bubble under it, just like the replies told him to, and it opens up a new window.

 **X**  
_**Tweet your reply** _

He hopes he reads more measured than he feels.

_That’s not very nice. How do you even know who I’m talking about?_

**_peith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_I just know_

Shiro sits a little straighter and frowns. He has no idea who this “peith” person is, but they're clearly blind or stupid. Maybe both.

_You shouldn’t talk about others like that._

He waits for the reply, ready to fight, but another reply catches his eye.

 ** _Shay_ ** _replying to @tshiro01 and @002_kth_  
_Shiro...that's Keith, the boy with the face scar._

Shiro blinks in surprise, and Keith looks undeniably sheepish when he turns to him.

“You're…?”

“... Peith.”

“Oh.”

It seems kind of obvious now. Shiro hopes he isn't usually the kind of guy to miss obvious clues.

_If he didn’t think I was weird then, he does now._

And he's not really sure he ever pulled off the cool, suave vibe, but he can definitely kiss it goodbye now.

_I just made a fool out of myself._

**_peith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_sorry_ _

Shiro feels too embarrassed to speak.

__S_ orry for.... getting frustrated at you. About you. _

God, he hopes he doesn't do this whole message-from-three-feet-away thing often.

 ** _peith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_it’s ok_  
_I should’ve_  
_said something_

But at least this makes two of them.

_It’s nice of you to be taking care of me to begin with. I couldn’t help feeling a little angry that anyone could talk bad about you in any way._

**_peith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
        _ _I want to_

Shiro glances up, but Keith tucks his chin like he's trying to avoid his eyes. He doesn't want to break this sudden openness though, so he sticks to the keyboard.

_Sorry, I’m not sure I understand. You want to what?_

**_peith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_want to be the one to take care of you_

_O_

For all his own honesty, it's amazing how a few little written words can cause him to completely short circuit. The one to take care of you.

The one to take care of you...

He doesn't know how long he stares at his screen before Keith leans into his vision with a concerned face. It's a beautiful face.

“Shiro? Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” he responds eloquently, and the concern before him only multiplies.

“I said the nurse is here with your meal. Do you want jelly or ice cream for dessert?”

Shiro looks up belatedly to the impatient woman who holds up his options. He pauses to consider as if both don't sound far better than whatever hospital gruel awaits him for the main course.

“I kinda would prefer a popsicle to be honest.”

Shiro doesn't understand why _that_ flames Keith's cheeks more than anything else he has said to him all afternoon.

“He'll take the jelly,” Keith mumbles.

The tray looks just about as unappealing as he expects. Apparently that's one memory that can overcome amnesia: hospital food is horrendous. He bears the cardboard they pass off as potato bake, the dry peas and even the grey blob masquerading as some kind of protein, but the carrots are a hard no, even with Keith's incessant nagging. He loses half his jelly cup to him as punishment when he lets them go cold.

He naps shallowly once Keith takes the tray away, but knows from the lag in his mind and the stiffness in his limbs as he comes to that he only manages to rest for maybe an hour at most. But Keith is there when he opens his eyes with water and medicine that he insists he takes. He leans forward obediently when Keith fluffs up his pillows behind him, and tries to not seem _too_ enamoured as he watches his face while he hands back his datapad.

“You're still here,” he says, awed.

And the shy little smile that crosses Keith's face makes him feel dizzy.

“I told you I wanted to take care of you,” is his only response.

He hovers, as if he wants to do more. Say more. But then he seems to decide against it, and hastily returns back to his seat. It's still enough to make Shiro feel breathless.

_Wow, my heart’s beating fast._

He toys with the corner of his datapad for a moment. There's so much he doesn't know. So much he needs to know. So much that just won't return to him. Maybe he can't rely on his memories coming back. Maybe he needs to recreate the pieces himself.

“Keith?”  
The most important question comes first.  
“Are we friends? 

For a the briefest sliver of time, Shiro is sure he sees pure agony flash in Keith's eyes, and it makes his heart still.

“Yes,” Keith breathes. “Yes Shiro, we're… we're very good friends. We have been for most of my life.”

It's a relief.  
“Good… Good, I'm glad. I don't think a life without you is one I'd be terribly excited to recall.”

And Keith flushes, making Shiro smile. He can sit content with that for a while. More questions can come later.

_Friends, huh?_

A nurse makes rounds to check up on his vitals, and Keith goes rigid when he tells them it's only twenty minutes before visiting hours are up. Shiro feels his heart sink. It's not so much the thought of being alone through the night that bothers him, and more so the idea of waking up and not seeing Keith waiting by his bedside.

It sends Keith silent when the nurse leaves again, and a selfish part of Shiro sulks a little. He doesn't remember if he's a selfish man, but he'd like to think he isn't, so puts a lid on the sour mood that threatens and waits for Keith to talk first. But it's as if his important question has shifted the atmosphere in the room, and Shiro starts to worry that maybe it was entirely the wrong thing to ask. Maybe there was some conditional status to that friendship. Maybe Shiro had done something wrong in his forgotten past. Either way, Keith seems more off-kilter than ever, deep in thought, and Shiro can't help but feel it's his fault.

Shiro sighs when the nurse returns and Keith gets to his feet. But then Keith moves to his side and places a hand firmly on his thigh. Shiro mentally congratulates himself on managing to keep all his screaming internal as he and the nurse zero in on the touch at the same time.

“I'm staying with my husband.”

And Shiro tries valiantly, but a quiet squeak sticks in his throat that makes Keith jump. The nurse eyes them both skeptically.

“You're not married,” he says, with far less confidence than Shiro expects.

“Oh really?” Keith snarls, and _holy shit_ that's far hotter than it has any right to be. Shiro feels his mouth go dry. “How about you check your records, huh? Admitted November first: Keith Shirogane. Accompanied by spouse Takashi Shirogane. Tell me I'm wrong.”

The nurse looks fairly intimidated as he reluctantly scrolls through his datapad, but Shiro doesn't particularly care because _Keith Shirogane_ is the sweetest combination of words Shiro has ever heard in his entire life and he thinks he might explode, but he want to hear them again and again in that fierce voice until he dies.

“You're my…” he starts absently, and Keith looks horrendously guilty when he faces him, the rage in his eyes vanishing like smoke.

“I'm so sorry Shiro, I…” He swallows, seeming to steel himself. “I didn't want you to find out this way. Not while you were…”

The nurse shifts awkwardly, and just like that, the wildfire reignites in Keith's eyes as he turns back to him.   
“U-uh, my apologies Mr Shirogane —”

Shiro is officially reeling.

“— I'll ensure your sleeping arrangements are attended to immediately. Could you please just sign in at our desk?”

Keith casts a concerned look to Shiro, but he just nods numbly and tries not to react when he squeezes his thigh.  
“I'll be quick, Starlight,” he says softly. Shiro doesn't know what a heart attack feels like, but this has got to be close.

_Oh my God_

When Keith walks out the room and leaves him to wallow in the aftermath, Shiro goes into complete meltdown.

_What did I do in my life to have_

It's getting harder to focus on the keyboard.

_He’s sk pretty how djd I_

But the nurse had confirmed it himself. Keith Shirogane. Keith _Shirogane._

KEITH—

_I’M MARRIED_

He thinks of his instinctual reaction when he woke up. The way his heart had fluttered in his chest with one look. Yes… yes, that must have been love! True love! Something that could overcome lost memories and forgotten time.

_It all makes sense now. I can’t stop smiling whenever I look at him._

It makes him feel giddy, but _of course_ he's Keith's husband. There is no way he couldn't have fallen in love with that perfect face, that raspy voice, that tender heart. No way he would have reached for anything less.

 ** _keith_ **  
_I'm gonna die_

Shiro finds the most devastated looking face in his strange smiling keyboard.

 ** _keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_no I_

Shiro bites his lip with a grin. Even like this, through the screen, he’s utterly adorable.

_I know things are going to be okay with Keith at my side._

He hears footsteps, and looks up just in time to see Keith arrive, looking sheepish. He pauses in the doorway, as if suddenly worried about intruding, as if he didn't deliver the best news of his life. Shiro beams to him and pats the bed beside him. Keith's approach is a little stilted, but he climbs up all the same to sit cross legged in front of him, eyes widening when Shiro leans forward to take his face in both hands.

“How could I ever forget you?” Shiro breathes. “Someone so perfect as you.”

“Shiro…”   
Keith's voice sounds a little choked, and he can't have that. He can't make him cry.

“I must have had a lobotomy. That's the only explanation. One look at you would be enough to engrave you in my mind forever.”

Keith hiccups a laugh, and Shiro can feel his skin spike hot under his hands. It's delightful.

“Beautiful… mine…”

Keith gives an unsteady exhale.   
"Yours,” he agrees, soft enough to melt his heart.

Shiro states at him a moment longer, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb. A mournful thought comes to him.   
“What was our wedding like? I can't remember…”  
Keith pauses on a pained expression, but when he goes to speak, Shiro interrupts.  
“Wait, no no, don't tell me,” he says, dropping his hand to entwine their fingers together. “I'll try to be patient and remember myself. It will be better that way. My own memories.”

He watches Keith's throat bob as he swallows hard.   
“And if you don't?"

“Then marry me again,” Shiro laughs, squeezing his hand.

“M-marry?…”

“I'll marry you again and again until I remember nothing else.”   
Keith goes the most startling shade of red and it makes Shiro feel positively giddy.   
“But I'll remember, I promise.”

“Yeah.” The reply is curiously sad. “I'm sure you will.”  
Before Shiro can dig, Keith looks up and stops him dead with a smile, squeezing his hand.  
“I have to write some reports about the mission where you got hurt. Can you deal with me working for a little while here?”

“Of course,” Shiro answers ardently. “Whatever you need. And if I can help?...”

But Keith shakes his head as he shifts to the side of the bed.   
“I'll try to wrap it up quickly.”

_It’s... confusing to not have any memories. But the way my heart jumps whenever I see him— how could I ever ignore that?_

He busies himself with some replies until Keith stands and shoots him an apologetic look.   
“I just have to debrief with the senior officers before my job is complete. Will you be okay by yourself for a little while? I could call someone to stay with you.”

“Visiting hours, remember?”

Keith cocks an eyebrow and it hits him straight in the chest.   
“I think you'll find that wouldn't stop our friends.”

Shiro huffs a laugh, but shakes his head.   
“Go. I'll be fine. I'll just sit here trying to remember how I conned you into agreeing to be my husband.”

Keith lets out a shaky laugh of his own.   
“I think you'll find I'm the only con artist out of the two of us.”

“Not a chance.”

The second he’s gone, with an awkward smile and far too much tension in his shoulders, Shiro wishes he had insisted on joining him. He hopes he isn't this needy usually, but he thinks it's only fair to pine in his absence when he feels like a newlywed so suddenly.

_Husband. Wow._

**_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_shiro_

_Hi, husband._

**_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_hhello_

God, he wishes he could kiss him… Wait.

_When you come back... is it okay to ask for something?_

**_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_oh uh_ _  
__yeah sure_

It buzzes through his veins as he waits, and he wonders what a kiss from Keith - a kiss from his husband - would be like. He wonders what kind of kisser _he_ is like. Is he any good? Does Keith like kissing him? Without any memories, he’s going in a little blind here, so he has to hope that instincts alone are enough. He doesn't have time to formulate a plan before he hears approaching, hurried footsteps, so Shiro decides until proven otherwise, he's a “wing it” kind of guy when Keith's face appears again.

“I missed you.”

Keith gives a little scoff, moving to sit down on the edge of his bed.  
“I was gone twenty minutes maximum.”

“Yes, and I felt every agonising second.”

“Dork,” Keith snorts, but he curls his fingers in Shiro's when he reaches for them.  
“What did you want to ask me?”

Shiro smiles, pulling on his hand to bring him closer. He decides the direct approach is best.   
“Can I kiss you?”   
It's worth it just to see the way he goes bashful in front of him.

“O-oh. Yeah, of course. Let me just…”

He shuffles over and leans in closer, just as Shiro sits forward to meet him. He means to ease into it, but Keith’s lips part under his, and desire creeps in until it feels like an overflowing chalice. With a little encouragement, Keith kisses like he's starving, and it shoots a thrill straight down his spine. Maybe they kiss all the time. Maybe Keith had been missing this today. This and more. God, Shiro just wants to touch…

Keith looks dazed when they pull apart, and Shiro can’t help but feel a little smug. With hands on his waist, Shiro flips him onto his back on the tiny bed, thumb running circles over his hip.

“Can I get one more?”

Keith blinks up to him owlishly.   
“What?”

“One more,” Shiro murmurs, brushing his nose against Keith's.

“Oh,” he answers, eyes drifting to his lips. “Okay, that.”

Shiro laughs softly, before pressing in again. He smiles into it when Keith's hand rises to hold at the nape of his neck until the sound of his name escapes from his lips. With breathless joy, Shiro peppers kisses to his cheeks, the underside of his jaw until Keith starts laughing.

“This isn't _one more_ ,” he chides, squirming when Shiro lands a kiss on his neck.

“Can you blame me?” he grins, and Keith laughs again, reaching for his datapad as it buzzes between them.

“Oh _shit_.”

Shiro barely avoids collision when Keith suddenly sits up.   
“Everything alright?” he asks with a frown.

“Y-yeah,” Keith says without any real reassurance, tapping furiously at his screen. “Just… twitter. It's nothing. Sorry.”

“It's fine.”

Shiro sits back, and maybe it's a small mercy, because a nurse arrives only a moment later with Keith's bed for the evening. He isn't terribly sure, but he gets the feeling his husband isn't the kind to be into public displays, and he'd rather not find out the hard way so soon after finally getting to kiss him again.

He turns his attention to his own datapad while the nurse fusses, but he can't find whatever it was that made Keith panic. He stays silent while they still have company though, so Shiro occupies himself by opening up a new tweet.

_I’m thankful for everyone’s patience. I’ll be... asking a lot of questions._

He flicks through replies and the rest of his feed, responding to Keith and some of the more familiar faces that pop up. But when the nurse leaves, he sets it aside to grab Keith's attention by squeezing his ankle.

“Mm?”   
Keith puts the datapad down too.

“How did we meet?” he asks softly. “Don't tell me anything too specific, but maybe it will jog my memory.”

Keith purses his lips thoughtfully, but then his eyes widen and he goes scarlet again.   
“I, um… stole your car, I guess,” he mumbles.

Shiro lets out a bubble of surprised laughter.   
“You what?”

“You said not to be specific!”

“You stole my car? Wow.”   
He opens his datapad again and Keith scrambles.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

_He… stole my car?_

Keith chokes.

 ** _keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_SHSIRO_

He can't stop grinning, watching him get flustered in front of him.

_I married a bad boy._

Keith flops onto his stomach to hide his face, and Shiro tries quite unsuccessfully not to laugh.

 ** _keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_BAD BOY_

 ** _Allura_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_He's quite a good bad boy._

_He's a very sweet bad boy._

**_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01 and @allura_06_  
_no more_

With a grin, Shiro leans over him to brush aside his hair - and god, does it feel wonderful slipping through his fingers - to kiss the back of his neck.

_Pretty boy stole my heart too._

Keith makes a distressed sound into the pillow.

 ** _keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_no more twitter_

Shiro pouts against his skin.

_But it’s giving me somewhere to put all my thoughts._

**_keith_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_just say it to me_

“Okay then.”   
It's enough to make him put down the datapad once and for all. Keith is all wide eyed and open when Shiro rolls him onto his back, lashes fluttering when he strokes the scar on his cheek.   
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, and Keith makes a strangled noise beneath him.

“Far too many times today,” he chokes out.

“No such thing,” Shiro grins, ducking down kiss him again. Even now, it makes his stomach flip to have him like this. “I'm the luckiest man in the entire universe. I still can't believe it.”

“I'm the lucky one,” Keith murmurs shyly, and this time he's the one to initiate the kiss. “You'll remember that eventually.”  
Keith won’t hear his protests, silencing him effectively with slow kisses that gently lull him into a soporific mood. Keith thumps his shoulder when he yawns in his face.  
“Go to sleep, you dork,” he laughs. Shiro finds he can't argue. They switch places, and Keith strokes his hair until he simply can't keep his eyes open any more.

“Sweet dreams, Starlight,” he hears, a kiss pressed to his forehead. “I'll keep you safe.”  
And then, just before he sinks into dreams, “I love you.”

Shiro is gone before he can utter the words back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend NOT html coding on your phone during your lunch hour. In case you're wondering, yes I am dead inside after typing out the break code for every single line. 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://copilotsheith.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith)


	7. Chapter 7: The Getaway Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 5-7: Shiro and Keith finally get the rest they deserve

“You're stressed.”

It comes out of nowhere, and Shiro pauses where his finger swipes through the syrup on his plate. Keith nods down to the empty dishes in front of him.

“You eat when you're stressed.”

Shiro feels his face heat, but it's a fair assessment. One that's a little hard to counter when he's still considering dessert after ordering two meals just for himself off the breakfast menu. With an extra bowl of fries.

“No I don't,” he still says out of reflex.

And Keith, bless him, could roll his eyes or sigh, but does neither. Instead, he rests a hand on his knee and squeezes.  
“It's been a rough few days.”

That's the politest way of putting it, but it's a bit of a gross understatement. Even before Shiro had been kidnapped and his memories scrambled, life had been a rat race of meetings and missions for the coalition. But it could have only been worse for Keith, rescuing him (again), dealing with his amnesia, and single-handedly infiltrating their new enemies to bring back his best chance at a cure. So yes, he has been stressed, but to admit as much out loud when Keith has been through so much more seems terribly unfair.

Keith squirms under his silence.  
“I know I didn't handle everything too great in the hospital. I—”

Shiro cuts him off with a soft growl, leaning into his space.  
“You,” he says, punctuating the word with a kiss, “were perfect. So don't give me that, okay?”

Keith makes a pained sound.  
“I shouldn't have pretended—”

“I think the hospital husband schtick is par for the course for us by now,” Shiro laughs, sitting back to suck a syrupy finger into his mouth. Keith follows the motion, and Shiro tries not to flush when he sees his eyes go dark, accidentally popping his lips when he releases it again.  
“I’m glad you could stay with me. Besides, we're just even now.”

“Yeah…” Keith answers, but his gaze is still set on his lips, so Shiro leans back in to give him a sticky kiss with a grin.

“Thank you for saving me, Sunshine,” he says, and it's wholly sincere. “I can honestly say I don't know where I'd be without you.” And because Keith seems uncomfortable with that thought, he adds, “and thanks for putting up with my dopey, drugged-up ass yesterday too.”

Waking up after the surgery had been surreal. A moment where his past and memories had orbited around him like they were planets and he was a central star, until gravity pulled them all in one by one. Keith had been there, of course. Shiro had taken one look at him and everything came flooding back. The Garrison, hoverbikes and the launch pad. Voltron, the clone facility, _I love you_.

Their return to Earth. Confronting Honerva... And finding each other at the end of it all. Shiro whispered his name and Keith's breath had come out in a rush.

“It's me,” he had said, and Keith had slumped over his body to bury his face in Shiro's chest.

“I know,” he rasped, soaking through his hospital gown.

“I know…”

“I'm pretty sure the only one who's ass was receiving any attention was me,” Keith says, bringing his focus back. He cocks his eyebrow and Shiro gives a nervous laugh.

“In my defence, it's a really nice ass.”

“Yes, your hand made it abundantly clear. In the cafeteria. While _you_ were still in bed.”

Shiro ducks his head sheepishly, trying to suppress a grin.  
“The hand wants what the hand wants.”

Keith groans loudly.  
“You're ridiculous.”

“Only for you, Sunshine.”  
He pushes his empty plate forward with a sigh.  
“But maybe you're right. Maybe I am a little stressed.”

Keith chuffs scornfully.

“We need a vacation,” Shiro jokes.

That makes Keith straighten beside him for a moment before he lets out a long breath.  
“Y-yeah. That would be nice. Just… just the two of us.”

The thought is sublime. One day, when the coalition no longer needs them, maybe they'll spent the rest of their days travelling this world, this system, the rest of the cosmos. Together.

They shuffle out of the booth together, and Shiro's prosthetic is far too large to slide into Keith's back pocket, but he does give him a generous squeeze when he stands. Keith responds with an embarrassingly loud squeak and Shiro laughs.

“It's got a homing device, I swear.”

To which Keith thumps him in the chest and mutters, “idiot.”

A kiss sets everything right though, and Shiro bats him away when Keith attempts to retrieve his wallet.  
“My treat,” he says, ignoring his protests.

But Keith gets the last laugh after they split up for the afternoon (and after they deal with the fallout of Shiro's sweet tooth pitted against Allura's cheesecake) when Shiro's datapad pings with a screenshot of a flight confirmation for the evening.

      **_keith_ ** _: my treat_

Another image comes through with reservations for a ryokan-styled resort for two. For a moment, Shiro doesn't know what to say.

 **_keith_ ** _: might want to pack an overnight bag if you're in our room_

_I can't believe you._

_I love you._

**_keith_ ** _: I llove yu too_

 **_keith_ ** _: sso much_

He makes sure Keith knows for sure when he arrives back at their quarter, prosthetic hand immediately reaching over to pull him closer to kiss.

“How?” he asks against his lips. “I don't understand.”

Keith shrugs, as if it's nothing  
“You said we needed a vacation,” he says but he's trying not to smile.

“You…” Shiro laughs, and Keith joins him when he kisses him again.  
“But really, how? Do we even have clearance to leave the Garrison?”

“I told Iverson you have enough medical leave saved up to take the rest of the year off with time to spare. It wasn't a hard sell. The coalition can survive a few days without us.”

Shiro doesn't feel inclined to argue, even if logic whispers that the coalition is hardly stable right now, but Keith strikes the fatal blow anyway.

“Just you,” he says softly, tapping his chest, “and me. Two nights to ourselves in a hot spring so you can finally relax. No Atlas, no Lions, no duties. Sound alright?”

“Never heard anything better in my entire life.”

“Good,” Keith smiles. “Then we better hurry. No work policy starts now, and that means we have to do everything the old fashioned way. I've ordered us a taxi for—” he checks his datapad, “— five minutes ago. Shit. I haven't even packed yet.”

“Got you covered, Sunshine,” Shiro smiles, nodding over to the suitcase by the door. “I packed for both of us.”

Keith glances over, and instantly relaxes.  
“Ever the forward thinker, huh?”  
Shiro laughs when he presses a quick kiss to his cheek.  
“Let's go then.”

* * *

It's all too easy to get into holiday mode the moment the leave the Garrison. He snaps a couple of quick pictures of Keith on his datapad, saves his favourite and tweets another. He sees Keith glance down to his own device and smile.

_**keith has retweeted your photo** _

Keith takes one of his own once they reach the airport, and Shiro's heart tugs at the smile on his face. He might be doing this for him, but Shiro can see he needs this just as much. He deserves to rest too.

 **_keith  
_ ** _excited_

Shiro can't deny he feels the same way too.

* * *

Shiro notices a subtle shift when they take their seats. There's tension in Keith's shoulders again when he settles beside him, the smiles vanish, and Shiro can tell something is wrong.  
“Hey,” he says softly. Keith still startles, eyes whipping up from his lap. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine, why?”  
The reply comes out too quick, and so Shiro places a bandaged hand on his knee.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, and Keith deflates.

“It's stupid,” he says, crossing his arms and avoiding his gaze.

“Never,” Shiro counters. “You can tell me. What is it?”  
There's a pregnant pause, but Shiro is patient and it doesn't take long for Keith to crack.

“I… hate flying,” he whispers. “When I'm not the pilot, I mean.”

It comes as a shock.

“But we travelled in the Castle Ship for months. Atlas."  
It's less disbelief though, and more a biting disappointment in himself.  
"Why haven't I noticed this before?”

“It's different,” Keith says, looking humiliated. “Space travel? Fine. I can't feel us moving. Taking off in a commercial jet? Less appealing.”  
He shrinks a little in his chair.  
“I guess… it's a control thing. I don't know. It's stupid.”

“Keith…”  
He squeezes as best he can with the soreness still lingering in his tendons.  
“That's not stupid at all. Have you ever even been a passenger in a jet before?”

“Griffin piloting his MFE fighter to the Zaiforge cannon is the closest. And he was fine, but I hated every moment of take off.”

Shiro pauses thoughtfully. He wants to offer his hand to hold, but it's still tender, and hurting him definitely won't do anything to alleviate Keith's stress. So instead he unbuckles his safety belt and stands.  
“Swap with me. Have the window. Being able to see might help.”  
Keith puts up a very token protest, but is quick to slide across. He looks guilty when Shiro sits down and he tries to soothe him with a kiss.  
“You can grip onto this hand as hard as you like,” he smiles, wriggling metal fingers.  
Keith makes an noncommittal sound, but holds firm when they leave the runway a few moments later until they start their steady ascent. Shiro doesn't interrupt him when he tries to distract himself with Twitter, except only to kiss him whenever they dip with turbulence.

It's a short flight though, even with old Earth technology, and soon they're touching down in another state, another timezone, with the light slowly fading. Another taxi waits for them there and takes them up into the mountains, through picturesque roads and barely touched wilderness. Shiro stares in wonder when they arrive, and Keith makes quick work with Kinkade's spare camera once their luggage is out of the car. A short flash aimed at him brings Shiro's attention back from the guesthouses and cobbled pathways to where Keith smiles shyly over the viewfinder.

“Do you like it?” he asks softly.

Shiro is on him in two strides with a kiss.  
“I feel so much better already.”

“Good,” Keith whispers, taking hold of the handle of their suitcase.  
“You look exhausted. Let's find our room.”

Now that Keith has mentioned it, he does feel the allure of a soft warm bed calling out to him in the chill of the evening. He lets him lead him away to the reception, and then down the pathway to their accommodation.

_Can’t wait to soak in some hot waters tomorrow._

The room is a perfect blend of Japanese ryokan and western styling, and Keith makes him stay up just long enough for room service and to witness Allura's teasing online before he ushers him out of his clothes and into bed. It's far larger than their one back at the Garrison, but Keith still nestles close when Shiro reaches for him.

“We barely take up half the mattress,” Shiro mutters, amused.

“I can move if you like?” Keith replies.

“No,” and he presses him closer. “Not an inch. Stay right here.”

He hears Keith’s breath hitch softly, sliding an arm around him.  
“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay, I'll stay.”

Shiro barely manages a soft good night before he goes, with lips pressed against his cheek and fingers in his hair.

* * *

Shiro already feels rejuvenated in the morning. He wakes naturally, before Keith. Without the threat of interruptions, he takes a moment to admire his sleeping face in the muted winter sunlight that filters through their window. He considers waking him with kisses again, the way he had when his anesthesia had worn off after his surgery, but ultimately he lets him sleep a little longer, slipping from the bed to brush his teeth. His good mood translates clearly when he opens up Twitter once he washes his face.

_Take a break. You deserve it._

Keith is stirring when he returns, stretching out and blinking blearily, sleep softened and vulnerable in the very best way. It's a sight Shiro won't ever tire of. One he would like to see again and again - a million times over.

_I hope everyone’s having a good day today._

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Shiro says lowly, putting the datapad aside. He watches the smile spread across Keith’s lips, and quickly crosses the floor to lean over and capture it in a kiss that's drowsily returned.  
“You can sleep a little longer if you stayed up.”

Keith shakes his head, mussed hair in his eyes.  
“Wanna spend all day with you. I'll get dressed.”

* * *

 

Shiro feels the weight slowly lifting from his shoulders as the hours pass. They're meant to be exploring, but really Shiro is just looking at Keith. He wants to drink in that smile forever, watch the light dance in his eyes and feel him tug on his sleeve until the end of time. He stays still when Keith runs ahead to take another photo, watching as he pulls up his datapad to upload it immediately.

 ****_**k**_  
_can’t believe today’s_ _  
_ _almost over_

_I’m glad we got to spend the day together like this._

 **_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_we should come back  
           since it’s not too far_

_I’d like that._

 **_k_** _replying to @tshiro01_  
_maybe we can_  
_go to actual japan_  
_when it’s all over_

Shiro looks up to where Keith stands watching him, returning the smile he sees.

    _You showed me yours. There’s nothing more that I want than to show you a part of my own.  
We’ll have the rest of our lives to explore together._

Shiro sees him gulp when he reads the reply, the way he does when he doesn't know quite how to process his emotions. The way when he doesn't quite believe he's worthy of the words Shiro has for him. So he hurries to meet him with a kiss to chase any doubt away. He only has sweet intentions, but Keith works it into something a little more heated, until the camera is pressed painfully between them and his fingers slip against skin.

“Should we head back inside?” Shiro breathes between them when they pull apart.

Keith is nodding before he even finishes the question.  
“If I can make it that far.”

Shiro laughs, kissing him again.  
“Guess we better hurry then, huh?”

It makes him feel younger than he has in years, chasing him down the pathway, stopping to kiss and touch in ways that threatens to become borderline indecent while they're still out in the open. Shiro growls when he runs ahead with a laugh and again when he catches him at their door, with his datapad open and typing.

 **X                      |** **Drafts  | Tweet  |**

     _shiro’s gonna get_

Shiro yelps and grabs for the phone and Keith giggles - _giggles_ \- while he wrestles for control. With a sinking feeling of dread, he sees the blue banner appear on his screen.

**_Tweet sent_ **

They both freeze, and Shiro lets go to scramble for his own datapad.

 **_k  
_ ** _shiro’s gonna getkslalznakxj_

And Shiro sighs.

_No, Keith._

Keith pouts up to him.  
“Is that a no for Twitter or?...”

Shiro gives him a flat look, just to make him suffer a moment, but the second his face starts to fall, he steps forward to kiss him like he means it. And that's all it takes for the rush to return. Keith whips around to unlock the door with renewed desperation while Shiro crowds him with a large hand on his hip and teeth grazing at his collar.  
“Hurry up,” he says, with none of the patience he preaches.

“I'm trying,” Keith laughs, just as the door clicks, sending then both tumbling inside. Shiro doesn't know how Keith manages to keep his footing, let alone recover to twist the two of them and press Shiro into the wall. Then Keith is kissing him senseless, biting his lip, fingers creeping higher under his shirt.

“Bed,” he mutters when Shiro breaks free to mouth bruises into the side of his neck, where they can be hidden by hair.

“Don't have to,” Shiro suggests against his skin, but Keith grumbles.

“Bed,” he reiterates, firmer this time, pulling him away from the wall.

Shiro laughs as he herds him further into the room, hastily freeing him of his clothing and tugging off his own as they go. When Shiro feels the mattress at the back of his knees, Keith shoves him gently so he falls back onto the bedding, crawling up after him between his thighs and planting both hands on his chest. This is still a new part of their relationship. And the last few days haven't exactly been conducive to exploring it more. It's suddenly apparent that has been eating at Keith. He's flushed already, eyes dark, hair askew. A vision above him, and Shiro's breath catches, arrested.

“God, you're perfect,” he says into the quiet pause.

Keith ducks his head in a way that looks far too demure when he looms over him.

“Hey,” Shiro urges, waiting for him to meet his eyes again. “Today was wonderful. I haven't felt this relaxed in… well, in years.”

He watches Keith bite his lip, looking both pleased and embarrassed.  
“Yeah?”

Shiro nods earnestly.  
“I don't know how I ever survived without this,” he smiles, covering a hand on his chest with his own. “I love you so much.”

He's rewarded with a kiss dropped to his sternum and the words returned softly to him. There, Keith lingers and suddenly blushes, sparking Shiro's curiosity.

“I wanna try… that thing you did for me,” he mumbles shyly, “Before the conference.”

The words are like flint in Shiro's veins, and suddenly every inch of his body feels aflame as Keith's fingertips drag down over his skin.

“Yeah Sunshine,” he breathes. “Anything you like.”

* * *

 _**k**_  
_everything I do with shiro  
__is now top secret_

Shiro pauses when his datapad pings, abandoning the tie on his yukata.

 **_k  
_**            _@tshiro01_

> **_O me hago malo_ ** _replying to @002_kth_  
>  _that's not true! You're always there to gun emoji people when they bother Shiro with tmi questions. And even if you say something we misunderstand you half the time, even! It's all on us!_  
>  _You're so valid! Tell Shiro I think you're valid!_

He sighs, wishing Keith hadn't left in search of vending machine snacks so they could talk about this properly. For now, he needs to nip it in the bud, before things can escalate.

_Keith, everything you feel and say is valid to me. I’d just prefer if the entire universe didn’t know the times and dates of when we decide to do romantic activities._

It's a relief when Keith's reply comes through.

 **_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
_ _fair_

He still teases him with peach emojis though, so Shiro retaliates by leaving the room and snapping a few quick photos on his way to the bathhouse. He reaches the lockers before he can see if Keith has responded, but it must do the trick, because arms wrap around his waist and a bare body presses to his back in the shower stall when he's only half done scrubbing down.

“Occupied,” Shiro says, grinning when he feels the pout against his shoulder.

“We showered in our room,” he grumbles, tightening his hold.

“It’s polite,” Shiro responds, turning in his arms.  
There's no one else in the washroom though, so Shiro indulges him in a slow kiss, running the showerhead over his body. Keith hums happily, leaning a little more of his weight into Shiro’s chest. With a laugh, Shiro cuts the water and grabs towels for them both as he leads them out into the springs.

“You're like a little monkey,” he teases, when Keith's refusal to release him leaves their strides stilted and waddling.

Keith snorts, but it turns into a yelp when Shiro pinches his side. Still, he doesn't let go, and Shiro doesn't make him when he sees the springs are empty too. Carefully, he lowers them both into the water, and Keith settles in his lap with knees either side of his hips, sinking against him and pressing his face into the crook of Shiro's neck. The heat of the water alone is enough to draw a satisfied sigh from Shiro, but the steady weight of Keith relaxing against him is a bone deep feeling of true peace. He can feel the rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming against his ribs, and the slow breath on his neck that tells Shiro he's already easing into sleep. He watches the steam curl around his shoulders and the way his skin slowly turns pink in the water, running fingers up and down his spine.

It's only when he hears movement in the wash house that Shiro gently unseats him, and Keith settles against his side just in time for a group of guests to join them. Keith huffs quietly, resting his head against Shiro's shoulder, but his eyes are closed and there's a content look on his face that warms the parts of him the water can't reach.

He lets him doze against him, but gently coaxes him back into alertness with kisses into his hair when his skin starts to prune, signalling they've been in too long. Keith lifts his head to meet his lips lazily with his own. Shiro can feel him smiling into it and sends a shiver down his spine.

“Time to get out, Sunshine,” he urges, conscious of the audience they have.

“Don't wanna,” Keith mumbles.

Shiro tries not to laugh, leaning in closer.  
“I'll make it worth your while,” he whispers in his ear, and suddenly Keith is fully awake, standing up in the water.

Shiro does laugh this time, standing far more calmly and picking their towels up from the edge. Keith reaches for his other hand on instinct, then stops himself with a frown. His wrist has been feeling better, but without the medical sign off, Shiro knows Keith will stay wary, so he doesn't bridge the distance while they return to the lockers.

_My whole body feels great._

He sees Keith smile as he retrieves his own datapad.

 _ **k** replying to @tshiro01_  
_you look great_  
_Good_  
_relaxed_

Shiro grins at his screen as he closes the locker.

_Ahaha, thanks. You, too._

Keith helps him back into his yukata - even though Shiro managed perfectly fine without him before - throws the towels into the hamper and takes hold of his right hand firmly. Shiro knows it's not the same, but he treats it so anyway, brushing his thumb over metal knuckles.

The electricity under his skin when they kiss again is more of steady hum than the explosive sparks from earlier. Perhaps it's tempered by the springs. It carries them back to the room without any desperate urgency.

“Dinner first,” Shiro says, and Keith colours when his stomach growls in response.  
“Definitely dinner first,” Shiro laughs. “Drink some water. I'll make the call.”

It's only after they've eaten and Shiro is cleaning the dishes (“that's what housekeeping is for, Shiro”) that Keith gets restless.

 ******_k_**  
           _starlight  
           _ _come here_

Obediently, Shiro abandons the mess to find him where he waits perched on the edge of the bed. Placing down his datapad, he kneels before him, plucking at the tie of his robe.

“Have I mentioned how much I appreciate you?” Shiro asks softly. He doesn't know whether Keith squirms under the words or the kiss he presses to his stomach.  
“You're so kind, so thoughtful. Thank you for organising this.”

Keith shifts, and he avoids Shiro's eyes when he looks up.  
“It was nothing,” he mumbles.

“It really wasn't,” Shiro insists.  
“This is the most spontaneous… most _romantic_ thing anyone has ever done for me.”  
He pauses to press a kiss to his hipbone.  
“You are so incredibly precious to me.”

“Shiro…”

“I have never felt this way about anyone. Never _loved_ anyone as much as I love you.”

“Sh-shiro… please…”

“You're it for me, Keith.”  
A sniff brings his gaze back up to Keith's face, and to his alarm, he sees tears welling in his eyes.  
“Keith!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he babbles, a hand rising to cover his eyes.  
“Just… I didn't… I never thought… that you… and I...”

“Sunshine…”

“I'm fine. Really. I just…”

Shiro panics.  
“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just… it's a lot to hear you say that.” He lets out a shaky exhale. “Can I have a minute?”

Shiro sits back on his haunches, dazed.  
“Yeah, of course.”

Keith hurries to his feet, and all but runs to the bathroom. With a sigh, Shiro rises to climb onto the bed. He doesn't regret the words - he means every single one - but he does feel a little guilty. Maybe it was too much, too soon. God knows he would have freaked out if he had heard the same at his age. A minute turns into two, then five, then eight. Then Shiro's datapad lights up on the bedside table.

 **_k  
          _ ** _holy shit_

He really hopes that's a good sign.

_Keith, come out?_

 **_k_ ** _replying to @tshiro01  
           _ _mno_

Shiro feels his heart sink, but he tries again.

_It's getting chilly without you._

The room is terribly silent, enough that Shiro can hear his heart pounding in his ears. But then it's interrupted by the click of the door. Keith looks sheepish as he slinks out. A little unsure, Shiro waits for him to speak first, but Keith surprises him by returning to the bed and crawling over him to lie on his chest.

“I love you too,” he says quietly, tucking his head under his chin. “I know I'm not as good at expressing it as you—”

And Shiro cuts him off with a laugh. Keith pulls back in shock and so Shiro rushes in before he can run off again.  
“Not good at expressing— Keith, you've saved me so many times. Taken down my enemies. You literally brought me back from death. Words are just words, but you? You _show_ me me so much love every day. I was an idiot to not see that sooner.”

“If you make me cry again, _you're_ sleeping in the bathroom.”

Shiro chuckles, pulling him down in a kiss to soothe.  
“What if I made good on my promise in the springs instead?”

Keith hums his interest, and with relief, Shiro can feel that beautiful smile move against his lips once more.

“Depends what you have in mind...”

* * *

“Oh please, I didn't keep you up _that_ late,” Shiro laughs when Keith’s head lolls on his shoulder again.

“It’s early,” Keith whines, but he looks terribly sheepish.

“Uh huh… Just how long did you stay up?”

“Not long. I fell asleep right after you.”

Shiro finds he doesn't quite believe him when he starts snoring on his shoulder at the departure gate. But he doesn't mind. Reality may be waiting for them on the other side of their flight, but Shiro feels ready now, thanks to the man beside him.

And after? Well, then they'll have the rest of their lives to chase suns and stars together.

_All journeys come to an end, good or bad. Let those experiences be lessons that guide you when you decide to go on your next one. #PaladinPositivity_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry for the delay! Unfortunately real life did get in the way this time. I did contemplate how... detailed I wanted this chapter to be, but in the interest of keeping things as non-explicit as the VPRP guys intended, I decided to stick to a mature rating and a little innuendo instead.
> 
> This chapter feels a little final, doesn't it? I guess we'll see. At any rate, please continue to support the VPRP team on twitter and send them your love.
> 
> You can find me at copilotsheith on [twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith), [tumblr](https://copilotsheith.tumblr.com) or [pillowfort](http://pillowfort.io/copilotsheith).


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